The Victor From Twelve
by Kate-The-Great-And-Powerful
Summary: In 75 years of the Hunger Games, there have been four victors from District 12. Haymitch Abernathy, Katniss Everdeen, Peeta Mellark, and one unnamed victor from an unknown Games. This is the story of the 6th Hunger Games. Alder's POV
1. Chapter 1: A Great Listener

**Author's note:**

**The first and very most important thing I have to say is: Thank you HogwartsDreamer113 for suggesting I write more about Alder. You are the reason this story exists! :D**

**Also, thank you to everyone who followed, favorited, or reviewed my other fanfictions.**

**One last thank you: I often go on and on for hours about the Hunger Games. I can say truthfully that it drives some of my family members crazy. Thank you to anyone who puts up with it, and thanks even more if you listen :)**

_I don't talk very often, though people tell me I'm a great listener. –Alder Zane_

Chapter 1

_ The introduction, the anthem, the speech; They all lead up to this moment. This is the moment when a name is called at the reaping for the 6__th__ annual Hunger Games._

"_Alder Zane!" It's me. It can't be me. Not when I only have eight slips of paper in the reaping ball. I'm going to the Hunger Games. I am going to die._

"Alder, wake up," says a voice, bringing me back to reality. My older sister, Betony, stands over me.

"Of all the days to sleep in, you choose today?" she says. I shrug. "C'mon. We sent Cedar out to get some bread. He'll be back soon." I nod and start to get up. I knew as soon as I saw Betony, who's never still home at this hour, that today is a special occasion. A holiday, almost. Today is Reaping Day.

After I get dressed, I come into the kitchen to see Betony, Graham, and Laurel, three of my four older siblings, sitting at the table with my parents. Usually, it's just Laurel, Cedar and I in the morning, since the rest of my family works in the mines. Just as I join them, Cedar bursts through the door holding three loaves of bread.

"Got it," he says, smiling.

"Wow," says Graham, "What'd that cost you?"

"I traded it for part of a wild turkey," answers Cedar, "Brought the rest back here." He holds up a bag. Cedar is the only one of us brave enough to hunt in the forest, on the other side of District 12's electric fence.

We make a meal of it, the bread and the turkey.

"It's nice to have a break from the mines," says Father.

"Course, it'll be nicer once we don't have to worry about the reaping," Betony points out. Everyone else immediately agrees.

"One more year," says Cedar, smiling. He turned 18 a couple months ago.

"Two more years," says Laurel with a sigh, "Four more, for Alder." She isn't being rude. She spoke for me simply because she knew I wouldn't speak for myself. I don't talk very often, though people tell me I'm a great listener.

"Well, we better get going," says Betony, "It's starting early this year."

"Who told you that?" asks Graham.

"Horace did," says Betony.

"Never listen to Horace," says Cedar.

"She can't help it," says Laurel with a smile, "She's in love!" Graham and Cedar laugh.

"Shut up," says Betony, rising from the table, "You won't be laughing when you're late for the reaping!" She spins on her heel and walks out the door, to what will most likely be a very empty square. I stand up and set my plate down beside the sink. Mother stops me before I can leave the room.

"Where are you going, Alder?" she asks.

"He's going to Linden's, like he does every Reaping Day," says Graham. I nod.

"All right, then," says Mother.

"Bring us back some candy?" asks Laurel. In response, I turn my empty pockets inside out.

"Aw, you're no fun," she tells me. I shrug. I know it's a joke, because we almost never have enough extra money to buy the hard candy they sell at the general store.

It's pretty cold outside today, with a few early-autumn leaves brightening up the dreary grey houses of the Seam. The front door catches on the doorframe, so I have to force it shut again with my foot. I stick my hands inside the pockets of my jacket and start my walk to the general store.

I turn to one of the other houses when I hear a door slam shut, and I see Rowan coming down the steps to meet me. We look quite similar, with the same black hair and grey eyes as almost everyone in the Seam.

"Hey, Alder!" he calls. I stop and wait for him to catch up.

"What's new?" he asks. I shake my head and shrug. "Nothing, huh?" I nod. We keep walking, and Rowan fills me in on how his little sister woke up screaming last night from a nightmare where she was picked in the reaping.

"And she's just nine!" he exclaims, "She's got three years left before she has to worry about anything. Plus, they'll get rid of these Games once people realize how horrible they are."

"What if they don't?" I ask quietly. Rowan stops.

"What?" he asks. I shrug.

"What if they don't get rid of them?" I say. Rowan pauses.

"Well, they can't jut let it go on like this," he says, "It's won't be forever." I shrug again and we keep walking.

Soon enough, we reach the general store. A little bell rings as we open the door, and our friend rushes out from the back room with a stack of boxes in her arms.

"Sorry, we're closed toda—Oh, hi!" says Linden when she sees us.

"Hi, Linden," says Rowan brightly, "Happy Reaping Day."

"What's so happy about it?" asks Linden, setting the boxes down on the counter. She starts to pin back a stray piece of blond hair that has come loose from her ponytail.

"I don't know," he says, "It's a holiday, I guess."

"Well, for some more than others," says Linden forlornly. The tributes last year had been in our class at school. They both died on the first day.

The three of us talk for a while, in the empty store. Then, the old clock on the wall strikes two. _Ding! Di—pop—creeeeaaakk._ Linden hits it once with her fist. —_Ding!_ the clock finishes. We all laugh, because none of us will admit how afraid we really are.

Rowan, Linden and I walk together to the center of town. On the way, I see Betony and a dark-haired boy who I assume is Horace sitting under a tree together. When she notices me watching, her eyes widen. I can tell immediately what she's thinking. _Please don't tell Laurel!_ I pretend to zip my lips closed, and she starts to smile again.

By the time we reach the square, the Capitol representative is climbing the temporary stage's four steps. We race frantically towards the 15-year-old section, and manage to make it just in time.

"Welcome!" says the escort, a woman with silver skin and poodle-style hair known as Vega Starbridge, "Welcome to the reaping of the 6th annual Hunger Games!" The audience applauds halfheartedly. The mayor takes the microphone and starts the dreary annual reading of the Treaty of Treason, followed by a brief summary of Panem's history.

"…And as a reminder to the districts that history must never be repeated, the Hunger Games began," finishes the mayor. He hands the microphone back over to Vega.

"Now, please rise for Panem's national anthem," she says. We all stand as the anthem begins to play. On the gigantic screen set up behind the temporary stage, pictures from past Games play in a gruesome slideshow. When the song finishes, we sit back down and Vega starts talking again.

"It's finally time to pick the tributes!" she says, "As always, ladies first!" She crosses the stage and sticks her hand into the girls' reaping ball. She pulls out a slip and comes back to the microphone. You could hear a pin drop in the square, it's so quiet.

"Violet Henson!" she says. Next to me, Linden breathes a sigh of relief. A girl starts to walk towards the stage from the 14-year-old section. My heart sinks when I realize I recognize her. She lives in the Seam, close to Rowan and I. She also goes to school with me, though we're not in the same year. Linden recognizes her, too.

"Oh, not Violet," she says, "She was always so sweet."

"Well, we can't talk about her like she's dead," says Rowan, "Maybe she can win. I mean—" Linden shoots him a look, and he falls silent.

"And now, the boys!" exclaims Vega, walking over to the other reaping ball. She picks a slip of paper from the very top of the pile and takes it out, breaking the seal with her long nails. She walks back to the microphone, studying it, as if trying to figure out how to pronounce the name.

_It can't be me. It can't be me._

The entire population of District 12 holds their breath as Vega takes her time.

"Alder Zane!" I don't register the name is mine until she calls it again.

"Alder? Alder Zane? Are you there?" she asks. I am Alder Zane. It's my name. A strangled sound escapes my throat. She called my name! All the kids around me have cleared a path to the stage, so I take it. I climb the stairs and stand next to Violet. I try not to meet anyone's eyes, fearing I'll break down if I do.

"Introducing, the District 12 tributes of the 6th annual Hunger Games, Violet Henson and Alder Zane! Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!"


	2. Chapter 2: When You Were Picked

**I'm sorry this one's so short :) The arena chapters will be longer, I promise, so please just bear with me until then :D**

_He could have saved you when you were picked. – Graham Zane_

Chapter 2

Violet has started crying. I try to keep a blank expression; because if I'm sure about one thing, it's that all of Panem is watching us now. Four Peacekeepers escort us into the Justice Building, ensuring we don't make a break for it. A couple years ago, one of the tributes tried to escape. He almost made it, too.

Once I step inside the room where I'll say goodbye to my loved ones, they shut the door behind me. I take one look around and decide I'd rather be anywhere but here. My family rushes in. All of them are crying.

"Alder!" exclaims Mother.

"I can't believe it," says Laurel, taking a seat on a velvet sofa likely worth more than our house. My other family members start to tell me how much they love me, how sorry they are, how they wish there was something they could do. It gets to the point where I can't make out a word they're saying, between the crying and the fact that they're all talking over each other. Surprisingly, it only takes two simple words to silence them completely.

"Where's Cedar?" I ask. For once, my entire family is at a loss for words.

"We don't know," says Father finally, "He left right after the reaping."

"I think I know why he did," says Graham, "He could have saved you when you were picked. He could have volunteered."

"Well, he couldn't have just left without saying goodbye to Alder," says Betony. Graham shrugs. A Peacekeeper opens the door.

"Time's up," he says. My family nearly suffocates me in a giant group hug. Then, they leave the room, and I'm alone again.

About a minute later, Rowan and Linden come in. Linden's eyes are red.

"Listen, Alder," says Rowan immediately, "You can win." I shake my head.

"I'm serious," he says, "You can start a fire, and you know what plants are safe to eat, right? And didn't Cedar take you out in the woods a few times to try and teach you hunting?" I nod.

"Just stay away from the Careers," says Linden, "Then you'll be okay." Her voice breaks and she hugs me. The Peacekeeper opens the door to tell them they have to leave. We say goodbye one last time, and then they're gone. I'm surprised to find there's another visitor waiting outside.

"I should have done something," says Cedar as soon as he enters the room, "I panicked. I didn't volunteer. It's my fault you're going." I shake my head.

"Yes it is," he says, "And now it's too late." He gestures to the room around us.

"Just, please forgive me for that," he says, sitting down on the couch opposite me. He buries his face in his hands.

"I would volunteer for you now if I could, Alder."

"I'll be okay," I say finally. He lifts his head.

"At least, take this into the arena with you," he says, taking off a rope bracelet and fastening it on my arm. The Peacekeeper opens the door again.

"You have to leave for the station now," he tells me. As I'm led down the hall, I look out the windows at the district. Though it's cold, grey, and dismal here almost year-round, it's my home. And I may never see it again.


	3. Chapter 3: Punctuality is Essential

**Sorry I haven't updated in a while :) First I was reading other fanfictions, and then I had writer's block, and then my computer was confiscated because I was on fanfiction at 2 in the morning. I'm also sorry this chapter is so short! I promise they'll be longer once Alder's Games start. Until then, please bear with me! :)**

_Punctuality is essential. –Vega Starbridge_

Chapter 3

For a few agonizing minutes, we're forced to stand in front of a crowd at the train station as they take our pictures. Violet has collected herself, and is doing her best to look cheerful. She's a remarkable actress. If I wasn't close enough to see that her eyes are still red, I would truly believe she's happy to be here. I find I can't exactly pull off "happy". I can't even bring myself to smile. Instead, I try to keep my expression blank. It's an acceptable strategy for now.

I'm still recovering from the shock of being chosen at the reaping, so this is the first time strategy has crossed my mind. How am I going to get sponsors? How am I going to survive in the arena? Districts 2, 4 and 8 all have victors to mentor the new tributes, but 12 has yet to win the Games, so all we've got is Vega. I almost visibly shudder at the thought that our lives rest in the manicured hands of our Capitol escort.

Eventually, we are allowed to board the train. To my great relief, the doors close behind us almost instantly, providing a barrier between the three of us and the flashing cameras that have nearly blinded me in a very short amount of time.

"Well, that was exciting!" says Vega, "The reaping is one of the very best parts of being escort, in my opinion." We walk into another train car, which must be some kind of sitting room. Its elaborate patterns and styles are like nothing I've ever seen in District 12. I sit down in a large purple chair. Violet takes a bite-sized cake off a platter and examines it.

"What's this?" she asks. Vega launches into a full-fledged explanation, along with every entertaining story she's ever heard involving the snack, most of which make no sense to me. I can tell from the look on Violet's face that she's sorry she asked. I glance down at the rope bracelet on my arm. A miniature metal plate I haven't noticed before reads _Zane_ in bold letters. Violet sees me staring at it and takes this moment as a wonderful opportunity to end her uninteresting conversation with our escort.

"That your token?" she asks, pointing at my arm. I nod.

"What's it say?" I hold it up to her.

"Oh, yeah. That's your last name," she says. I nod again.

"Do you ever talk?" I shrug. With all of my brothers and sisters speaking at once, I don't ever feel like I need to.

"At least it means you're not a gossip," she says. She reaches behind her neck and unhooks the clasp of the silver necklace she's wearing. Then, she holds it out to me.

"This one's mine," she says, "Look." Violet opens up the heart-shaped charm, revealing two photographs. It's a locket.

"This is me when I was little," she says, pointing at one of the pictures, "And these are my parents and my little brother." She points at the other one. I nod.

"My parents gave it to me for my birthday one year," she says sadly, "Hey, where'd you get yours?"

"My brother," I say, speaking for the first time since we got on the train, "He gave it to me today." By this point, Vega has become bored of our conversation.

"I'm going to go to my room," she says brightly, "Be in the dining car at five, okay? Punctuality is essential." Violet bites her lip to keep from laughing, but Vega doesn't notice. The door slides shut, and Violet sits down in the chair across from me.

"Is she going to have to mentor us?" asks Violet. I nod.

"We're doomed," she says, shaking her head in disbelief. We sit in silence for a while, both looking out the window at the scenery. I can't concentrate on anything when it's all going by so quickly, so I stand up and start to walk to my room. I have no idea where it is, but I'll find it eventually.

"Where are you going?" asks Violet. I point to the car door.

"Okay," she says, turning back to the window.

With the help of an Avox, one of the Capitol's mute servants, I find my bedroom. I stay there, my thoughts still running a million miles an hour, until dinner. Even when I'm walking to the dining car, I still have plenty of unanswered questions.

_What'll I do for the interview? How am I going to get sponsors? What am I going to use for a weapon? What if I eat something poisonous? What if I run into the Career tributes? How long will the Games last? Will I die on the first day? Will I die on the second day? Will I die on the third day?_

I shake my head to clear my thoughts. Vega gives me a strange look as I sit down at the table.

Violet and Vega don't seem to like each other much. That was clear after a few failed attempts at conversation and one heated shouting match. After a couple minutes of silence, both of them turn to me, even though I'm not much of a conversationalist. Any question directed my way that requires more than a yes or no answer is dismissed with a shrug.

No one argues when I stand up and start walking back to my room. It's been a long day. And where we're going, tomorrow will be even worse. When I wake up, I'll be in the Capitol. One step closer to the arena. One step closer to the Games. One step closer to what will very likely be my death.

**I hope you liked it :) Again, sorry it's so short! I'm going to try and get the next one posted by tomorrow or the next day, if I can. But I apologize in advance if it's late :) Please review! Please please please!**


	4. Chapter 4: 23 of us

**Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed :) Again, I apologize for this chapter being so incredibly short; I just can't wait to start writing the Training Center and the arena!**

In a week, 23 of us will be dead. –Alder Zane

Chapter 4

"Wake up!" says Vega, pounding on my door, "Time to watch the reapings!"

After spending one more moment in my comfortable bed, I throw off the covers and walk over to the closet. I take out some clothes and put them on, surprised that they fit me perfectly. When I arrive in the dining room, no one is there. Did I miss breakfast? Oh, well. I grab a muffin from the table and walk to the next car.

"Morning, Alder," says Violet. Vega turns around.

"There you are," she says, "Now, we'll arrive in the Capitol soon. Let's check out your competition while we still have time." I sit down on the couch as the recording of the reapings begins to play on the large television screen.

As always, there are volunteers from 1, 2, and 4. The tributes from 2 have dark hair, while the tributes from 1 are blond. The boys are both tall and powerfully built, but other than that, they look nothing alike. There's also a major difference in their expressions. The boy from 1 smiles as if he's pleased with all the attention he's getting, while the boy from 2 sulks. My best guess is that he wants to finish with the reaping so he can get to the real action. The girl from 1, much like her district partner, grins and waves to the crowd. The girl from 2 is quite small, barely clearing five feet, but she has a look of undisguised determination on her face.

"Is it my imagination or do they look scarier this year?" asks Violet with a nervous laugh. I nod, unable to tear my eyes away from the screen as I watch the male tribute from District 4 knock another boy unconscious as he rushes to get to the stage.

There are a couple other noteworthy reapings. The girl from district 8 doesn't look very surprised when she's chosen. She just walks up to the stage calmly and shakes hands with her district partner, a twelve-year-old who's shaking like a leaf. The boy from District 10 tries to comfort the girl from his district when she bursts into tears. Another twelve-year-old. That's strange. The younger ones aren't normally picked. Two eighteen-year-olds are chosen from District 11. Neither one of them seems very nervous. And then Violet and I are chosen from District 12. Violet scowls when she sees the terrified look on her face. I am relieved to find that I controlled my emotions rather well, though I probably still look like an easy target to the Careers.

Violet is completely silent. I tap her on the shoulder.

"What? Oh, I'm okay," she says. There's a long pause.

"I just hope we can avoid the Careers," she continues. Something tells me staying away from the Careers isn't all that's on her mind. I nod. The other reapings have made everything seem so much more real. Only now do I fully realize the truth. In a week, 23 of us will be dead. No, we're not in District 12 anymore.

**Please tell me what you think! :D**


	5. Chapter 5: The Roar of The Crowd

**Here's Chapter 5! I'm happy to say it's longer than the last one! :D Alder and Violet will go to training tomorrow, and I have big plans!**

_The roar of the crowd is deafening. –Alder Zane_

Chapter 5

"I do believe you're almost finished," says Cardea, my stylist, in deep concentration as she adjusts the mining helmet on my head. She switches on the light and nods in approval, her turquoise curls bobbing up and down as she moves. For the finishing touch, she tosses yet another handful of coal dust over my head. And I, the victim, have yet another sneezing fit.

"There," she says, "Perfect!" The prep team applauds as I turn to look in the mirror. I'm not surprised by what I see. The tributes from District 12 are always dressed in miners' jumpsuits. The coal dust is what annoys me the most. Cardea may have gone just a little overboard, seeing as I'm covered in it from head to toe. It's not real coal; just some sort of synthetic powder. But I think I might be allergic to it, since I've been sneezing since I stepped into the room.

"Go on, now," says a member of the prep team, "The tribute parade will start soon! And don't forget to wave!" They shoo me out one of the doors, into a long room filled with chariots. Many of the tributes are already in their vehicles, waiting for the parade to begin. As I'm looking around at all the elaborate costumes, I collide with the girl from 8. She takes a step forward, trips on her dress and nearly falls over into a mountain of manure. The wire-rimmed glasses are knocked right off her face. I pick them up off the floor, grateful they didn't fall into the muck either, and return them to her.

"Thank you," she says almost indifferently, putting them back on. I nod and start walking to the District 12 chariot, being much more careful to watch where I'm going.

"Hi," says Violet. She's already standing on the chariot.

"Did you make a new ally or something?" she asks, pointing to the District 8 girl.

"I almost sent her flying into a pile of horse poop," I say, shaking my head. I can tell Violet's trying hard not to laugh.

"So, what do you think of these outfits?" she asks. Right on cue, I start to sneeze again.

"You said it," she says. I think Violet's a little better off than me. Her costume isn't as baggy, and she doesn't have on nearly as much coal dust. Her helmet's too big for her, though, and it keeps falling over her eyes.

Soon enough, the gigantic door opens and the District 1 chariot rolls out into the City Circle. The tributes are dressed in sparkling outfits made entirely from colorful gems. Violet sighs.

"Wish we had gotten those," she says. Actually, I kind of prefer the jumpsuits to the jewels, even if the coal dust makes me sneeze. We have to wait as ten more chariots begin their journey around the Circle. Finally, it's our turn. Our chariot lurches as we start moving, and we're both thrown backwards. Fortunately, we regain our balance as our chariot rolls out into the street.

The roar of the crowd is deafening. I've started to reach up and block my ears when I remember I'm supposed to be waving. Violet, as always, is doing a wonderful job of acting carefree. She expertly catches a single red rose in her hand and holds it out for everyone to see. Our faces are displayed on gigantic television screens positioned all over the City Circle, and the audience is cheering and screaming our names. I'm very uncomfortable with all of the attention, but I manage to smile and wave for a while before going crimson and praying for the ordeal to end.

Finally, our chariot pulls into place. I manage to keep my balance as the vehicle jerks to a stop, but Violet's helmet slips down over her eyes again, and I have to grab her arm to keep her from falling out.

"Thanks," she says gratefully as she gets to her feet. The president of Panem begins his dreary speech about the Dark Days; almost identical to the one the mayor gave at the District 12 reaping. Then, he reads out the Treaty of Treason. After a seemingly endless length of time, the chariots start moving again. Luckily, we don't have to go back the way we came. A door opens up for us, right under the platform where the president stands. Our chariot is the last to exit.

"That was horrible," I mumble as we get off the chariot.

"I don't think it was that bad," says Violet, "I think it was kind of fun. Look, I still have my rose!" She holds it up and grins at me. I smile back.

"Don't worry, you won't have to go through anything like that again until the interviews. Those are in five days, and then there's only…" she trails off. I nod, letting her know I understood. The Games are in less than a week. And we have less than a week to get ready.

**Thanks for reading this! :D Please review!**


	6. Chapter 6: The Real Fun Begins

**Sorry I haven't updated in a while, but I was really busy trying to get all the props together for a movie I'm making with my friends.**

**Okay, I promise you, this is the last short chapter! I'll try and post Chapter 7 by today as well, to make up for it :) I swear it'll be longer! :D**

_And that's where the real fun begins. -Em_

Chapter 6

Right after the parade, we go up to our room. Since we're from District 12, we have the very top floor. We board an elevator with the tributes from 1, 7, and 8. The tributes from 1 don't get off until they inform us of how excited they are for training tomorrow. The girl turns to me and tries to explain the concept of hatchet throwing.

"You have to angle your throw just right," she tells me, "If you hit the enemy in the head or the heart, they'll die too fast. If you can throw your hatchet at their arm or leg, you'll have a good chance of knocking them down. And that's where the real fun begins. So then you—" she's interrupted by the _ding! _of the elevator reaching her floor.

"That's too bad," she says with a shrug, "Guess I'll just have to show you in the arena!" She gives me a smile and walks out of the elevator with her district partner. She truly makes me wonder what life is like in District 1.

"Em, why are you trying to teach them how to fight?" the boy asks. The girl called Em laughs. I can just make out her answer as the doors close.

"Because I'm going to kill them all at the Cornucopia," she replies, "Come on, let's get something to eat." I swallow hard. There's an uncomfortable silence in the elevator, and most of the tributes look panicked.

"Maybe we'll get lucky and they'll die in the first couple of days, like the girl from 4 that one year," suggests Violet nervously. She asks it like a question, as if she's waiting for my nod to confirm that the intimidating tributes will die early. But I remain still, just as unsure as she is.

"It'll be tough to get rid of those two," says the boy from District 7, "I don't think they'll go down without a fight." He looks a little lost in thought.

"You sound like you're planning to kill them yourself," says Violet. The boy nods.

"I am," he says, "Well, if they don't get themselves killed first, which isn't likely. They aren't the only ones capable of winning." _Ding!_ Floor 7. The boy nods at us and exits with the girl from his district.

Neither of the District 8 tributes want to have a conversation with us, so the elevator is silent until the _ding!_ when the it stops at their floor.

Soon enough, we've reached floor 12.

"Wow," Violet breathes as the doors open. I nod in agreement. Our apartment is enormous. It's easily as big as my entire house. There's a glass table in the middle of the main room, surrounded by eight electric-green chairs. There's also a small kitchen on the left side of the room and a few blue couches on the right side, along with a television that takes up almost the entire wall. There are a few other doors leading to what I assume are the bedrooms. Our escort walks out of one of these doors.

"What are you still doing in your costumes?" she exclaims, "It's time for dinner! Go get changed!" She points to two of the other doors, and we go to our bedrooms.

After a traumatic near-death experience with the shower, I arrive at the dinner table bright red from the scalding water and smelling strongly of some sort of flower. At least I'm not covered in artificial coal dust anymore.

"Why are you all wet?" asks Violet as I sit down.

"There's no towels," I say, looking down at my plate. In the entire bathroom, I couldn't find a single towel. You'd think that in such a colossal space there'd be at least one.

"Well, actually, there's—" Violet starts, but Vega interrupts her.

"Of course there's no towels!" our escort laughs, "You use the dryer!" I give her a questioning look.

"It's the big metal box on the wall," explains Violet, "You press the button and it dries you off." Now that I think about it, there _was_ some sort of metal contraption on the wall, but I didn't trust it or anything else in the room after my experience with the shower. I nod. Well, that was humiliating.

When we're finished with dinner, I walk back to the bathroom. I cautiously put my hand on top of the metal box, and a current of air is sent towards me, drying me completely. Capitol technology amazes me. Why don't we have anything like this in District 12? It's almost as if I'm on another planet here.

I'm able to drift off without much tossing and turning in bed, mostly because tomorrow is the first day of training. I find sleep only because I know I'll need it.

**Thank you so much for reading this! Sorry it was short, this is the end of the short chapters, I promise! :D Please review!**


	7. Chapter 7: You're Dead

** Okay, I'm going to have much more fun writing these next chapters :) So I'll hopefully update more often. But I'm still working on that movie with my friends, along with… (cue the scary music) SUMMER READING. Yup, I'm a procrastinator :( Sometimes I like to joke and say I'm a procrastiKATEor :) **

**If you laughed at my lame pun, thank you for that. :) **

**So…Training has begun, thus ending the short chapters! Hooray!**

_You're dead. -Paice_

Chapter 7

My training outfit is already in my closet when I wake up. I put it on and head to breakfast. Again, Violet and Vega are already there, along with Cardea and Mars, a large man with spiky red hair I know to be Violet's stylist.

"I'll bet you two are excited for training today!" says Vega. Violet offers a halfhearted smile. I pick up my fork and start to poke a strange, green, jelly-like substance on my plate. I give up eventually and reach for a piece of toast while the stylists chatter away about our interview outfits.

"Alder, you're going to just love yours!" exclaims Cardea.

_Please, no more coal dust _I think.

"It goes along with your chariot parade outfit, too!" she says proudly.

_Shoot. Just my luck._

"I've been working on it ever since you were reaped!" my stylist continues. I nod to show her I'm still listening, though my mind is now wandering far from our conversation. Today is the first day of training. Am I going to practice with weapons? Knot-tying? Fire-starting? Climbing? There are so many stations, and we only have four days to prepare for the arena.

"Well, our tributes had better head down to the gym!" says Vega cheerfully, "Wouldn't want them to miss their first day of training, would we?" The stylists laugh and nod. All three Capitolians wish us luck as we walk to the elevator. I press the button that will take up down to the Training Center. For a few floors, we don't talk to each other. Finally, Violet breaks the silence.

"What are you trying first?" she asks. I shrug. I still haven't really figured it out.

"I think I should start learning to use a weapon, so I'm going to try the axe station," she says, "Looks easy enough to learn. I mean, you only have to swing it, just like a pickaxe. I've seen my dad use one of those plenty of times." I nod. Learning to use a weapon takes time. The Careers have been training since the very 1st Hunger Games. If I want to have a chance against them in the arena, I'll have to train with weapons for as long as I can. Guess I should start today.

The door opens and we take in the size of the room before us. There's a ropes course across the ceiling, targets in a variety of shapes and sizes lining the wall, and twice as many stations as I had expected for both survival and weapons. After a brief speech given by the head trainer, explaining the rules of the gym, we're allowed to start training.

I head for the knife station, since the smaller weapons are usually the easiest to get at the Cornucopia. The girl from 8 and the boy from 11 are already there. The trainer teaches us how to hold the weapons, where to strike, and how to avoid getting your arm hacked off by an opponent with a larger weapon. This particular lesson unnerves me a little. After deciding I'd more likely keep both my arms if I could use a weapon that doesn't confine me to close-range fights, I move on to the swords station. The boy from 1 is the only other tribute there. He doesn't acknowledge me in any way, because he's concentrating on disemboweling the human-shaped dummy in front of him. All the trainers who would normally practice with us tributes are sitting together on the side, watching. I think it's safe to assume none of them wanted to train with him, in case they ended up like the unfortunate dummy being ripped to pieces before my eyes. I hear a faint splash when I take a step towards the weapons rack, and I look down to see a pool of crimson liquid on the floor. My eyes widen. Is that _blood_? One of the trainers walks over from his co-workers.

"It's fake, don't worry," he assures me with a laugh, "Just a little something to show the tributes they're on the right track." I nod, looking over at the boy from 1, who's all but covered in the red liquid. He's definitely not in the light-hearted mood he and his district partner shared in the elevator yesterday.

"Now, how about a practice fight?" the trainer asks me. I nod and walk over to the rack of swords, where I choose a medium-sized weapon. The trainer teaches me the basics of how to use a sword, and then defeats me multiple times. Weapons used in practice fights, unlike the ones used on dummies, are too blunt to actually cut into anything, but they can still really knock the wind out of you.

I lay on the ground practically gasping for breath while the trainer, who earlier introduced himself as Paice, points his sword at my chest.

"You're dead," he says. I nod, feeling too exhausted to think about how his words are most likely true. I've proved to be hopeless at fighting with a sword. He helps me up off the ground.

"Lunchtime," he says, pointing at the door, "You'd better go. Nice working with you, 12." I nod weakly and start walking. I find Violet sitting at a table by herself and put my lunch tray down across from her.

"Hi," she says, "What did you do? Weapons?" I nod.

"Yeah, I saw you at the knife station. How'd you do?" she asks. I shake my head.

"No good, huh?" she says, "Well, I've been at the axe station. I'm terrible. I can't even lift one, much less swing it. And I'm scared to try using hatchets, since the girl from 1's been at that station the whole time. Did you try anything else?"

"Just swords," I say.

"How was that?" asks Violet. I shake my head.

"Well, there must be something you can do," she says, "Have you tried throwing a spear yet?" I shake my head.

"Try it," she says, "You need to find some sort of weapon."

"What about you?" I ask. Violet shrugs.

"I'll figure something out," she says, "Maybe I'll try archery later."

After lunch, I follow Violet's advice and head for the spear-throwing station. A trainer gives me a few tips on how to hold and throw the spear, and then I try it for myself. The weapon is surprisingly light in my hands. I draw back my arm and throw the spear at a target. The weapon hits the wall and clatters to the floor. I hear a snicker behind me, and turn around to see a Career girl pointing me out to her allies. I turn back to the target, determined to try again. The spear didn't hit its mark, but I wasn't off by that much. I pick up another spear, take one step forward and send it flying into the target. It's off-center by about a foot, but it's much better than last time. The trainer gives me a thumbs-up and tells me to keep practicing. For the rest of the session, I throw spears into the targets. I'm surprised by how easy I get the hang of it. By the end, I'm consistently hitting the target just a couple inches away from the bulls-eye. Maybe I'm not completely hopeless after all.

The elevator ride goes by quickly, and soon only the boy from 9 is there with me. Obviously not comfortable with the silence, he starts to whistle a tune I don't recognize.

I look out through the elevator's glass to see a giant screen in the City Circle, with pictures of the tributes, mentors, and stylists. In the middle of it all are the giant numbers: 06:05:51:34. The countdown to the 6th annual Hunger Games.

**Please review! I love hearing your comments :D**


	8. Chapter 8: Elimination or Defeat

**Here's Chapter 8 :) Sorry I haven't updated in so long, but school has started, and I'm sorry to say I won't be updating as often as I'd like anymore :(**

_They call it "elimination" or "defeat" when the Hunger Games is broadcasted to the districts, but murder by any other name is still murder. –Alder Zane_

Chapter 8

After breakfast, Violet and I head down to the gym together.

"What are you going to do?" she asks.

"Spears again," I say.

"You found a weapon?" Violet says, smiling, "That's great! I can't shoot, so I'm going to stick to the survival stations today." I give her a questioning look.

"Don't worry, Alder," she says, "I'll find something eventually." The elevator doors open, revealing the gigantic Training Center. Violet gives me a wave and starts walking towards the camouflage station.

When I reach the spear station, I decide to try something different. If I manage to make it out of the Cornucopia battle with a spear, I probably will have to fight someone close-range at least once. So I try another practice fight with a combat trainer.

"It's been a while, 12," says Paice, slashing his sword at my head, "What have you been up to?" In answer, I hold up my spear, which gives him an opportunity to trip me over. Just as he swings down his weapon, I bring up my spear and block the strike. Paice lowers his weapon and helps me up.

"Well done," he says, "But keep in mind that, in the arena, swords are sharp and spear shafts are wooden. Try to be more careful." I nod, and we resume fighting. I can't seem to get in a single offensive strike, so I eventually give up and practice throwing again.

_Swish! Thud!_ The sound of a spear sailing through the air and hitting its target echoes through the gym. _Swish! Thud!_ I try not to think that, in the arena, my target will be a person. _Swish! Thud!_ Could I intentionally end someone's life? _Swish! Thud!_ Would I even have the chance? _Swish! Thud!_ I may never get my hands on a spear. _Swish! Thud!_ I may not even live past the first day. _Swish! Thud!_ What if I do get killed at the Cornucopia? _Swish! Thud!_ What if I—

"Oi! District 12!" someone yells, breaking my concentration. _Swish! Bang!_ My spear hits the wall next to the target. I turn around to see all six Careers standing behind me.

_How did I miss them?_ I wonder.

"You're good," says the boy from 1. He's the terrifying one from the swords station yesterday, who left the training center covered head to toe in fake dummy blood.

"And with only two days of training. Be a shame if you didn't make it past the Cornucopia."

_I was trying not to think about that. Thanks for reminding me._ I think.

"Listen," he continues, "We've got some tough competition this year. We want you in our alliance. Deal?"

_They want _me_ in their alliance?_ My immediate thought is to decline, but I stop for a moment and really think about it. I could be part of the Career pack. I'd almost definitely make it past the bloodbath with them on my side.

But then, the Careers have never had the most…stable alliance in the Games. It usually ends in an ugly, violent battle. Chances are, one of them will kill me in the end. I mean, these are the tributes who smile when people die. The tributes who've been training since the very first Hunger Games. Every one of them wants to be here, from the boy from 1 who scowls because he's still waiting for an answer, to the small girl from 2 standing five feet away from the rest of her allies. I don't want to help any of them. They're killers. Monsters, even. Would anyone trustworthy ever sign up for this?

I look up at the boy from 1 and shake my head. Then, I turn back to the target and pick up another spear. _Swish! Thud!_

"Why not?" laughs the boy from 2, "You'll die out there." I shake my head again. _Swish! Thud!_

"We said we wanted you to ally with us. And you probably know what's going to happen to you if you don't," says the boy from 1 with a frown. _Swish! Thud!_ I nod.

"Good," he says, "You've got one more chance. Join us or die first." I shake my head. _Swish! Thud!_ The boy opens his mouth to say something more, but the girl I remember as Em tugs on his sleeve.

"C'mon," she says, "He's not worth it. Let's go." But her district partner isn't done yet.

"Why not?" he demands.

"I'm not a murderer," I say in a low voice. _Swish! Thud!_ A couple of the Careers seem taken aback at the words. The boy from 1 just looks furious. Killing in the Games isn't supposed to matter outside the arena. They call it "elimination" or "defeat" when the Hunger Games is broadcasted to the districts, but murder by any other name is still murder.

"It's not murder. It doesn't count," says one of the other Careers. I shake my head yet again.

"I swear I'll kill you first," growls the boy from 1.

"Try it," I say without thinking. Only when the words are out of my mouth do I realize telling him that may not have been my smartest idea.

_Swish! Bang!_ The boy from 1 lunges at me, and I fall backwards onto the floor. His allies eventually manage to yank him off of me, but not before he's punched me in the face a few times.

"What's the matter with you?" exclaims Em, "Don't you know how much trouble we could get into?" She grabs his hand and pulls him away, the rest of the pack not far behind. I turn back to the target. _Swish! Thud!_ There goes any chance I had of making it past the first day. I look at the spear in my hand. I'll never get one of these in the arena. _Swish! Bang!_ The weapon falls to the ground again. That's enough spear training for today. I still need to visit the survival stations, too.

I join the girl from 9 at the knot-tying station. She twirls the rope into various knots with ease, while I struggle to tie even the simplest square knot. She taps me on the shoulder.

"You can't tie it the same way both times," she tells me, "It's opposite, see?" She demonstrates on her own rope. "Over-under, then under-over." I nod and try it for myself.

"I'm Gloria," says the girl.

"Alder," I say back.

"Nice to meet you," she says, "Of course, we're not in a very nice place right now, but that's no excuse for being rude, is it?" I laugh. We tie our knots silently until it's time for lunch. After I eat, I visit a few more of the survival stations. No matter how many times I try to focus on training, I can't stop thinking about the Careers. They could kill me easily if they wanted to. And they do. The boy from 1 does, at least.

Violet and Vega are sitting on one of the blue couches in our apartment. My district partner's eyes widen as I walk out of the elevator and sit down beside her.

"Alder, what happened?" she exclaims. I must look confused, because Vega digs around in her purse until she finds a hand mirror. She holds it up to me. There's a nasty bruise under my right eye. I mumble something about angering the boy from District 1.

"That wasn't your best choice," Violet points out. I shrug.

"You'd better not let Cardea see you like this," says Vega, "She'll have a heart attack!" Violet and I both laugh, though from the look on Vega's face I know she was being entirely serious.

During dinner, Violet helps me avoid looking my stylist head-on by talking to me the entire time. I keep myself turned towards her, and Cardea can't see my face.

"Hey Alder, how was the spears station today?"

"Hey Alder, what's your favorite food?"

"Hey Alder, um…do you like the color purple?" We're about halfway through the meal when her questions start to get ridiculous, and we're forced to leave the table so we don't start laughing.

"Let's go to the roof," says Violet, suddenly serious. I raise an eyebrow.

"I want to see the sunset," she says, "And the stars, too. Because, you know, we may only get to see them a couple more times." After my encounter with the boy from 1 today, she's probably right about that. I nod, and we step into the elevator.


	9. Chapter 9: You Never Know

**Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed! OK, I had a lot of fun writing this one, because I love introducing new characters. This one was supposed to be based off of my cat, Simon, (call me crazy, there's actually ****_two_**** Careers who were originally based off cats) but he ended up having a very different personality. So, everyone, meet Julius of District 4.**

_"Ah, well. You never know what you've gotten yourself into until you watch the reapings." -Julius_

Chapter 9

_"I like it up here," says Violet, "I came up yesterday, too." There's a long silence, but Violet doesn't seem to mind. She's gazing out at the city, or maybe and more likely the sky, which has turned a soft shade of orange._

_"Can sunsets be this beautiful? I've never seen anything like it back home… But, I guess it could be as fake as everything else here," she sighs, leaning over the railing, "I mean, don't get me wrong, there are some things about the Capitol I like, but everything here is made of plastic. The food, the people, none of it is real. Not even the Hunger Games. You'd think a fight to the death's as real as it can get, but to them, it's nothing but a show." I nod._

_"So, what did you say to the boy from 1 to tick him off?" she asks with a smile. She laughs when I tell her._

_"That was awfully brave of you," she says._

_"Awfully stupid, more like," I say, shaking my head._

_"You'll be okay," she tells me, "As long as you're a fast runner." I'm not sure if it was meant to be a joke or not, so I don't respond. We stare out at the city in silence until the sky grows dark._

It's likely they're messing with me. Very likely. Maybe I'm wrong. The Career tributes could have all just decided they wanted to practice spear-throwing on the same day, at the same time. No matter how it happened, they're all at my station, and I won't get anywhere near the spears today.

I decide to try the fishing station, since the arena will probably contain a body of water, as it does most years. It doesn't take up the entire area, but there's usually one there to be a water supply for tributes. Learning to fish could be a very good idea.

As I am instructed on how to make fishhooks out of twigs and other natural materials, I keep an eye on the spear station. Half of the Careers look bored, and are sitting on the side watching the other tributes. The other half, the boys from Districts 1 and 4 and the girl from District 2, are practicing. The boys are quite good at it, which I would expect from Careers who have trained since the 1st Games, but the girl seems to be having trouble. She's easily the smallest of the Careers, and the spears she's using are too heavy for her to throw accurately. She soon gets frustrated, and yells quite a few foul names at the boy from 1, who's poking fun at her.

I turn away for a moment to fix my sorry-looking homemade fishhook. Is this what they do all day in District 4? Well, they've probably got real hooks that can actually catch a fish. After five minutes of fishhook making, I have a newfound respect for the people of the fishing district.

_Crash!_ I turn around to find that the noise came from the spear station. The boy from 1 is slumped against a rack of weapons, unconscious. The girl from 2 throws down her spear and storms away. Her district partner calls after her for a few seconds, and then decides to leave the station to catch up. The other Careers start to go as well, leaving their ally, and likely their leader, sprawled motionless on the floor. After a few seconds, the trainers drag him away.

I look down at my hook and decide to give up on fishing for now. Maybe I'll try again after lunch. Now, it looks like I'll get to visit the spear station again after all.

_That girl from 2 is stronger than she looks._ I think to myself as I throw the first spear. _Swish! Thud! _I guess she wouldn't be here if she wasn't. Maybe she'll be the one to kill me, if the boy from 1 doesn't find me first. I imagine her eyes being the last thing I ever see. I throw a few more spears, trying not to think about it. _Swish! Thud! Swish! Thud! Swish! Bang! _The last one hits the ground.

"You lowered your arm too fast," says a voice from behind me, "It's easier to get it flying straight if you keep your arm up." I turn around to see a lone Career, the boy from 4. He walks over and picks up a spear.

"Take it from an expert," he says with a grin, throwing the weapon straight into the center of the target. I can't help but be impressed.

"You're prob'ly wondering why I'm here," he says, "I want you as an ally. 'Cause Prime's too busy complaining about you to actually care anymore, and Emerald's got herself convinced you're not worth our time and we should move on, I thought I'd give it a shot. If you can learn to throw like that in less than three days of training—" He points to the target where a few of my spears are embedded in the center. "—Then you'd definitely make a good ally." I don't respond.

"I know you can talk," he says, "'Cause every time you opened your mouth yesterday Prime had an emotional meltdown of some sort." He shakes his head and throws another spear. _Swish! Thud!_

"Now he's got a lovely attitude, doesn't he?" the boy continues, "Oh man, did he do that to you?" He points at the bruise on my face. "It's an absolute _miracle_ he wasn't caught, then."

"He's gonna get us in trouble someday," he sighs, "Ah, well. You never know what you've gotten yourself into until you watch the reapings. I'm Julius." He sticks out his hand, and I shake it.

"And I'm pretty sure your name is Alder. Am I right?" he asks. I nod.

"Good. Well, Al, you are pretty handy with that spear of yours. And you've definitely got guts if you talked back to Prime like that." He laughs to himself.

"Right, so it's lucky Cel went and exploded just then, or else I wouldn't have gotten the chance to talk with you. Cel, I mean, Celestina's the tiny one who just threw our 'mighty leader' across the room like a sack of potatoes." He laughs again, and this time I join in nervously. To be honest, Julius is pretty intimidating. He's nearly twice my size. I don't want to risk making him angry as well.

"You really don't want to mess with her. She's not a people person. She'll gut you like a fish if you get too close." He shrugs.

"Anyway, is there any chance I could get you to change your mind about joining our alliance?" he asks. I shake my head.

"No?" he says, "Well, just to warn you, that's not the best idea. I mean, if Prime's out to get you we're _all_ out to get you. And, say there's a six against one battle. If you're the 'one' after that fight is over, chances are you're dead." I don't respond.

"Am I making sense? God, I hate it when I don't make sense," he mutters to himself, "I sound crazy, don't I? Probably confusing you how we all want you in our alliance so bad."

_True._

"Well, you see the girl from 11 over there?" he asks, pointing to a tall, dark-skinned tribute girl with her hair tied up in a ponytail, standing a few stations over. I nod.

"We've got reason to believe she's out to get every one of us," Julius continues, "She's spot-on accurate with a blowgun, too. We can only hope she doesn't get one of those in the arena. And that boy over there, the one from 7?" He points at the boy Violet and I met in the elevator.

"He can use an axe, prob'ly 'cause he's been chopping down trees in 7 since who-knows-when. There are more, too. The boy from 5. The girl from 8. They can use weapons. They know how to survive. And frankly, we need all the help we can get this year. What do you say, Al?" I shake my head again. I'm not going to be a part of the Career pack.

"Well, guess it's your choice." He puts his spear back on the rack. "Now, you better watch your back, 'cause I'm not saving you in the arena. I'll be trying to kill you." He gives me a wave, turns around and walks to the other side of the gym to join his allies. _Swish! Thud!_ I throw another spear. The girl from 11, the boy from 7, the boy from 5, and the girl from 8. Four new threats, plus the six Careers. Ten tributes to avoid at all costs. _Swish! Bang!_

The rest of the session passes by quickly. After lunch, I have time to visit many of the survival stations before we have to return to our rooms for dinner. Cardea and Mars are missing this time.

"Where are the stylists?" asks Violet.

"Probably putting the final touches on your new outfits," says Vega, "The interviews are in just two days. Can you believe it?" I shake my head.

"We'd better make the most of tomorrow. We haven't got much time left," says Violet.

"It's all so exciting!" says Vega, oblivious to the true meaning behind Violet's statement. _The next two days could be our last._

**Spoilers for anyone who wants them: Well, the next chapter is going to be day four of training, and the individual sessions. The chapter after that will not be the interviews, but preparation for the interview. Since District 12 doesn't have a mentor, Violet and Alder will have to spend the first half of their day with Vega. Joy. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Did you like Julius? Can you guess the other character who was originally based on a cat? Please review!**


	10. Chapter 10: Under The Radar

**So far, everyone who's reviewed has correctly guessed who our other cat is. Wow, is it really that easy? :) Yup, it was Celestina. Well, here's chapter 10 :) Sorry it's late, I just became obsessed with HG roleplaying. :D So much fun!**

**(The Games will hopefully begin in just a few chapters! I'm counting down until Chapter 14!)**

_Because I flew under the radar again. –Alder Zane_

Chapter 10

The last day of training. This is it. We've only got half the day to prepare. After lunch, I have to impress the Gamemakers in my individual session. I have to get a good score. I _need_ to get a good score.

I begin the day at the survival stations. The fire-starting station is a little crowded, but it's one of the only skills I haven't had the chance to practice this week.

"District 12," says Emerald when she sees me, as if she's greeting an old friend, "I haven't seen you in a while." I look away, hoping she'll leave me alone if I ignore her. While the trainer lectures us on how to start a fire without matches, she turns her attention to the visibly shaking boy from District 3, who can't be older than thirteen. Her goal, as always, is to intimidate the other tributes as much as possible before she's allowed to kill us.

The trainer passes out supplies. The boy from 3 keeps dropping his flint, since he jumps every time Emerald talks to him. Eventually, she forgets about him and tries to start her own fire. I focus on my pile of supplies as the trainer begins speaking, telling us to choose three items to start with.

It's slow going, but I manage to get a fire started. Surprisingly, the boy from 3 does as well. Emerald gave up after a while. She told us she wouldn't have to bother with this kind of thing in the arena, since she'd have matches from the Cornucopia. Now she's just leaning against the wall, casually peeling bits of bark off a tree branch with her knife. She keeps flicking the little pieces of bark in our direction. She must feel pretty confident, deciding to relax on her last day of training.

Suddenly, Emerald lifts her tree branch and blows on it, sending bark flying into the boy from 3's fire. The little pieces are immediately set alight and scatter all over the station. The boy's eyes widen as he frantically tries to put out the flames, first with his jacket, and then with the contents of a nearby metal thermos. I guess he was hoping it was water.

I just manage to scramble out of the way as the entire station goes up in flames. Emerald shrieks and jumps back, nearly landing on top of me. The boy from 3 drops the thermos of gasoline and runs around the station, panicking because his hair has been set alight. The trainer makes a grab for a red container on the wall, and sprays us all with a foamy blue substance.

"Agh!" screams Emerald, wiping the foam off her face. She glares at the trainer for a moment and then stalks away, trying to look dignified despite being covered in blue foam.

I leave when the trainer starts yelling at the boy from 3 for destroying his station. I've just decided to try camouflage when it's time for lunch. As I leave, I glance over my shoulder at the training gym, trying to imagine what it will look like completely empty.

I set my tray down at an empty table.

"Prime Reyford!" shouts a voice, "District 1!"

The boy from 1 gets up and walks through the door, a smirk on his face. After about a minute, the next tribute is called into the training gym for their individual session.

"Emerald Addington! District 1!" A foam-free, albeit wearing clothes stained a light-blue color, Emerald stands up, waves to her allies, and leaves the room. This pattern continues until only the tributes from districts 9, 10, 11 and 12 remain. The pair from 11 walk over to the table where the tributes from 9 are sitting, and appear to start a conversation. I'm trying to make out what they're saying when Violet sits down across from me.

"Hi, Alder!" she says, "How was training today?" I shrug, and then try to direct the conversation away from me by asking Violet the same question.

"Well, I tried hatchet-throwing, since that Career girl decided to try another station," she says, "I'm not too good, but I nearly hit the target once." She smiles, but her acting doesn't convince me this time. She continues the conversation, though, steering clear of any mention of weapons. She tells me about going around to the different survival stations, and how she excelled at the climbing wall. But in a little while, she's called into the training center as well.

"Violet Henson! District 12!"

"Wish me luck," she says, standing up. I nod my head, and then I'm alone. Well, us tributes are never really alone. The Gamemakers make sure a few armored Peacekeepers are there to keep me company while I wait for my turn. Soon enough, the time comes.

"Alder Zane! District 12!"

My individual session. It'd be more accurate to call it an _invisible_ session, since the Gamemakers are all too drunk to notice me when I enter the empty gym, my footsteps echoing loudly in the cavernous space.

I pick up a spear, hoping one of them will turn and see me. It's obviously too much to hope for, though, because they remain distracted by their conversations. _Swish! Thud!_ The spear hits the center of the target, but I'm the only one who sees it. _Swish! Thud!_ Why won't they notice me? _Swish! Thud!_ My life is in their hands, and they don't even know I'm here.

_One of them has to turn around. At least one of them._ _Please_.

My time is up before I know it. One of the drunken Gamemakers on the platform finally sees me. Except, instead of paying attention to what I'm doing, he tells me to leave. A chorus of loud cheers erupts from his co-workers, who are probably all quite happy to finally be able to go home. I take one last look at the spear I'm holding, desperately hoping I'll get one in the arena. It may be my only chance of survival.

The elevator door closes behind me, and there's nothing more I can do.

"Oh good!" says Vega as I arrive on Floor 12, "Now we can eat dinner!" Violet waves, though she looks upset.

After a pretty uneventful dinner, neither Violet nor I willing to share what happened in our individual sessions with Vega, we all sit on the couch in front of the television. I've seen this every year. They show a picture of the tribute, and then announce their score. Prime comes up first, of course.

"Prime Reyford, District 1, with a score of ten," says the voice of Augustus Silverwood, the announcer for the Games. I can imagine the celebration happening now on Floor 1. Emerald gets a matching score, and it's soon revealed that Celestina has an eight, which she must not be very pleased about. It's a mediocre score for someone who's been training as long as she probably has. Julius gets a nine, though his district partner ends up with a much lower score. Most of the tributes from the other districts get scores between 4 and 6, but there are a few who do as well as the Careers. The boy from 7 gets an eight, and the girl from 8 gets a nine. The girl from District 11, though, surprises us the most.

Because she gets a score of eleven.

No tribute in the history of the Hunger Games has gotten a score that high. I think about what Julius said, about her having perfect aim with a blowgun. That must have been the skill she showed the Gamemakers. After her picture fades away, my face is on the screen.

"Alder Zane," says Augustus, "District 12." I hope Vega doesn't notice I'm crossing my fingers. I don't want her to think something went wrong, even though she'd be right.

"With a score of 4."

Now I've done it. Not even the craziest Capitol citizens will sponsor a tribute with a score that low. If I had a chance of surviving the arena before, it's definitely gone now. Because I flew under the radar again.

**Amamelia5452 came up with the idea of "invisible session". Thank you! Oh, and please, please, please, please, please, please, PLEASE review! :D**


	11. Chapter 11: What You Have to Say

**I got this chapter finished quicker, because we had a super awesome three-day weekend! Yay! Hopefully, if this is still the day I posted it, I'll be working on Chapter 12 as you read this! I love the weekend. :)**

_"Speak clearly and loudly, and never let them forget what you have to say."–Vega Starbridge_

Chapter 11

Violet's score is considerably higher than mine. She got a 6, which she should be happy about. She later told us that she spent her individual session climbing on the ropes course.

The next day, I wake up with a new realization. It's the last day before the Games. Tomorrow morning, we'll be sent into the arena.

Tributes have to put up with one more horrible experience before they're sent away to die. We have all day to prepare for our tribute interviews, which will take place tonight.

"Rise and shine, Alder!" says Vega cheerfully, knocking on my door, "You're up first!"

_Up first for what?_

I glance at the clock on my bedside table. 3:30 AM. I roll over, blocking my ears with my pillow. In a matter of seconds, the pillow is yanked off my head, and a familiar silver-tinted escort is standing over me, hands on her hips.

"You have five minutes to get dressed and eat breakfast. Then, you'll meet me in the living room for content and presentation!" I have no time to wonder what she's talking about before the door has slammed shut and I'm alone again.

I've just walked into the kitchen and am reaching for a piece of toast when Vega spots me from across the apartment.

"Alder!" she calls, sounding impatient, "Come on!" I pick up the toast, take a bite, and walk over to the living room. As soon as I sit down on the couch, Vega snatches my breakfast away and tosses it into a nearby trashcan.

"Content and presentation!" Vega announces, "Do you have any idea what you're up at this hour for, Alder?" I shake my head.

"Usually, the escort teaches their tributes how to behave onstage, and the mentor teaches them what to say. But you, Alder, don't have a mentor. So you'll be spending the next five hours of this day with me." I nod drowsily, though I'd love to ask why Violet gets to sleep in.

"First up is content. I'd like to get it out of the way so we can focus on what's really important," says Vega. I nod.

"Now, to get an idea of who you are, I'll give you a practice interview. I'll pretend to be Egnatius, and you answer my questions like you normally would." Egnatius Marchland has interviewed tributes since the Games began. He has a very…_unique_ style. I'd really rather not imagine Vega looking like him.

"So, Alder, how have you been enjoying life in the Capitol?" asks Vega. Egnatius usually starts out with this kind of question. In response, I shrug.

"No, that's wrong," says Vega, breaking character so she can shake her head at me, "You have to say something." I know I have to say something. And I want to say something. After what happened in my individual session, I don't think I can risk being ignored again.

I can't do it, though. Vega repeats the question several times, but I can't bring myself to speak.

"I don't know why I even try," says Vega, "The only one I've seen you talk to since the reaping is Violet, and she won't be asking the questions tonight!" There are a few reasons why I don't like to talk, the first being that I never usually need to. I have four older siblings and two friends who are never at a loss for words. And I'm fine with flying under the radar, usually. Because every time I open my mouth, there's a 99.9% chance something stupid will come out. Especially in public.

"Do you want to make an impression or not?" asks Vega.

"I do," I say. Vega looks surprised and very pleased, since this is the first time I've ever spoken directly to her, but she soon composes herself and continues talking.

"Then you have to speak. Speak clearly and loudly, and never let them forget what you have to say." I nod.

I can't say I regret the next couple of hours, but I also can't say I enjoyed them. The next practice interview forces me to give an answer with a minimum of four words. No shrugging allowed.

"I'm not so sure."

"I really think so."

"That is probably true."

"Maybe I should try."

In the end, Vega seems satisfied with my progress and allows me to take a break.

"I think the four-word minimum is working for you. You should use that for the interview," Vega says. I shrug.

"That wasn't a suggestion, Alder. That was an order," I smile and raise my hands in defense.

"Good," she says, "Now, for part two. Presentation. Are you ready?" I shrug. Vega gives an exasperated sigh.

"The first rule of presentation," she says, "No shrugging."

After a few hours of this, I automatically sit up straight in my chair, have learned to resist the urge to shrug when someone asks me a question, and smiled so widely for so long my face is starting to hurt. I check the clock. 8:30 AM.

"Rise and shine, Violet!" calls Vega, pounding on my district partner's door, "It's your turn now!" I walk back into the kitchen and grab another piece of toast. Just as I'm about to sit down at the table and start eating, there's a knock at the door. I turn the knob and open it, revealing Cardea and my prep team.

"Time to get you ready for your interview!" she exclaims. Something tells me I'm not getting my breakfast anytime soon.

**I hope you liked it! Please keep commenting, your reviews really mean a lot to me :D**


	12. Chapter 12: If You Put Your Mind to It

**A GIANT thank you to amamelia5452 for designing the story's new cover art! Also, thank you to everyone who's reviewed, followed and favorited! It means so much that you like my story! Okay, we've finally reached the interviews…**

_"I'll bet you could win, Alder, if you put your mind to it." –Egnatius Marchland_

Chapter 12

In the few hours before the interviews, all the tributes are crowded into a long hallway full of stylists and escorts and mentors, all rushing around making last minute preparations. My interview outfit is a suit the color of coal, though to my relief I did not have to endure the synthetic coal dust again.

I meet Violet at the end of the hall. She's been dressed in a long purple gown, made of a fabric with a somewhat glowing quality. She looks stunning, which will definitely help her get sponsors.

"Vega told me to give the audience compliments. Do you think it'll work?"

"It's worked before," I tell her. Even though sponsor gifts have only been around for three years, a few tributes have already won using that strategy.

Before we can continue our conversations, the tributes are led out in front of a cheering crowd. We all sit down in a long row of chairs. Egnatius Marchland, looking as unusual as ever with spiky purple hair, black tattoos around his eyes, and a rapidly blinking electric suit, steps onto the stage and waves to the audience. He starts to recite a long speech about what fun the Games have been this year, commenting on what seems like _all_ the pre-Games parties and very nearly driving me crazy from boredom. Finally, the interviews begin when Emerald is called up to the stage.

The girl from 1 is wearing a rather short silver dress. She'd have no trouble getting sponsors if she wanted the audience to be attracted to her, and I can tell by the whistles coming from the crowd that she's well on her way to doing just that, but Emerald has other ideas. She begins her interview by describing exactly how she'll kill the unlucky 2nd place tribute in the finale. Caesar eventually has to tell her to stop, because she may have managed to appall even the bloodthirsty Capitol audience with her vivid details.

Watching the Careers onstage is a bit unnerving, even though most of their interviews don't stand out to me. I think all the tributes from the outer districts gave a collective sigh of relief when Julius, the last volunteer to give his interview, walked down from the stage.

It seems like all of the tributes have come up with some sort of angle for their time onstage, even the Careers, who really don't need one. Emerald plays the vicious killer, of course. Julius is a comic, keeping the audience in stitches the entire time. The boy from 5 is happy to be here. The boy from 7 has a foolproof plan. The girl from 8 is mysterious, revealing nothing about herself.

The boy from 11 walks back to his seat, and it's Violet's turn.

"Violet Henson!" says Egnatius, "From District 12! Come on up!" Violet gives her best smile and climbs the four stairs leading up to the stage. She does a fantastic job, even managing to compliment Egnatius's outfit. About two minutes into her interview, I feel a tap on the shoulder.

"We have to tell you something," says the boy from 11, "My district partner and I, we—" He's cut off by the thunderous applause following Violet's interview. She looks down at me from the stage with a worried expression on her face. _Did I do all right?_ she seems to be asking. I smile and nod, clapping along with the audience. Her face brightens as she descends the stairs.

"And now, also from District 12, Alder Zane!" calls Egnatius. I turn to the boy from 11. He starts to assure me he'll give my district partner the message, but is interrupted by a Peacekeeper, who tells him to stay quiet until the interviews are over. I turn my attention to the stage. Those four steps make this all too similar to the reaping. I climb them slowly and take my seat onstage. My face falls when I see the number of people in the crowd. There must be hundreds of the Capitol's colorful citizens. Even worse, multiple cameras are stationed all around the stage, broadcasting my interview to all of Panem.

_Stop it!_ I tell myself. _If you freeze up during your _interview_, of all things, what in Panem are you going to do in the Games?!_

I take a deep breath and try to compose myself. Egnatius, who must be rather considerate despite his intimidating style, sees my expression and starts the interviews off with an easy question.

"So, Alder, what's your favorite part of the Capitol?" I stare at him blankly, and notice his eyes have no pupils. He repeats the question. Four words. I only have to say four words.

"I…" I stammer, "…I like the sunsets." Did I really just say that?

"The sunsets," says Egnatius, "Yes, they are quite beautiful here, aren't they?" I nod, trying to smile but probably coming up with something close to a grimace. Egnatius continues with his questions.

"Well, Alder, you're from District 12. Is there anybody rooting for you there? Family, friends, a _lover_?" He raises one eyebrow and smiles at me, trying to get a laugh. I stare out at the audience, trying to figure out just how many people are there.

"N-no," I say, "Just family and friends." That was five words. Vega probably would be proud, if I hadn't been staring at the audience like I was afraid they'd throw something at me while I said them.

"Is there anything you'd like to tell them?" asks Egnatius, "They're probably watching you right now."

_Thanks, Egnatius. Another reminder that I'm not only being watched by the hundreds of people here, but all of Panem as well._

There is something I'd like to tell them, though. I turn to look at one of the cameras.

"Goodbye," I say, trying to explain everything in that one word. I haven't given up, I'm still fighting to get home. I just don't want them to get their hopes up, because it'll only hurt more when it all ends. Egnatius's smile fades, and he puts a hand on my shoulder.

"Come now," he says, "You shouldn't talk like that." I can practically see the gears turning in his brain, trying to figure out what to say next. He could talk about training, but my score was horrible. He could talk about my plans for the arena, but he must assume I don't have any. I'll bet he thinks I'm a bloodbath tribute. The scariest part is that I can't tell myself he's wrong.

"I'll bet you could win, Alder, if you put your mind to it," he said. I shrug.

"Now, about training. Do you have anything to say about your training score?" I shrug again. I've gone back to staring out at the audience, completely giving up on the four-word rule. I think of how disappointed Prime will be when he doesn't get to kill me because my escort beat him to it.

"All right, then. Now, about the arena. Do you know what you'll do first when the Games begin?" I shake my head.

"Do you have a strategy?" I shake my head.

"Do you have an alliance?" I shake my head.

"Do you have a district token?" He's given up on asking about the arena, probably because he thinks I won't spend too much time in there before I'm "eliminated". I nod and raise my hand, showing the rope bracelet I've kept on since reaping day.

"Did one of your family members give it to you?" I turn back to Egnatius and nod slowly.

"It's very interesting," he says politely. I nod again, wishing I was in District 12, in our apartment, in the training center, in the arena, _anywhere_ but here.

**Am I being too mean to Alder? Gosh, he's been through a lot in these past few days. But just one more chapter in the arena, so at least the public humiliation has come to an end. Well, they're still watching him, but you know what I mean. :) Anyway, please review! I absolutely love reading your comments!**


	13. Chapter 13: Keep Your Head Up

**I'm so sorry it's taken so long for me to post this! It's been a while… But school's gotten off to an… er, interesting start, and I've found myself with a lot more work than I can handle… You know, while writing and roleplaying on fanfiction at the same time… :) You know me. Always, you know… procrastiKATEing! *waits for laughs* Okay, you didn't have to laugh at it this time :) Special thanks to Estoma for reviewing every chapter! :D**

**So… about this chapter… I don't really like fillers, but this one's kind of a must. The aftermath, the goodbyes, and the stockyard. Hope you enjoy! (Please leave reviews!)**

_"Remember to keep your head up, Al," - Cardea_

Chapter 13

I have no sponsors. Vega let me know that much.

"Why didn't you speak?" she demands as we step out of the elevator onto Floor 12. I shrug, frustrated at both Vega for yelling at me and myself, because I completely blew my only chance to make up for my low training score.

"Don't shrug!" she exclaims. I've had enough. I storm away, slamming the door of my bedroom in frustration. I lay down on my bed without bothering to change out of my interview clothes.

I can't sleep, though. In a few hours, I leave the room, unable to get any rest. Violet is sitting in the kitchen, staring at an untouched pear on the table in front of her. She glances up at me.

"I'm not tired," she says, her voice lacking its usual enthusiasm. I nod and take the seat across from her. There's a minute of silence.

"Did you panic?" she asks finally. I nod.

"You did great, though," I say. Violet lifts her head.

"You think so?" she asks, sounding a bit more like the Violet I know. I nod. We both turn our heads when we hear a noise coming from the other room. Vega appears in the doorway, her hair in curlers.

"You two should be sleeping," she says, "You've got a big day tomorrow." I look away, and she leaves the room without another word.

"C'mon, Alder," says Violet. I nod and follow her, out of the kitchen and down the hallway.

"See you in the morning," says my district partner. I nod, and shut the door behind me.

Somehow, I find sleep.

_Boom! The sound of a cannon jolts me from my slumber. The room looks darker than I left it, somehow, even though light pours in through the open windows. The sunlight seems fractured, curling around the room like mist. It looks almost…distorted. I throw off the covers and stand up, only to jump back onto the bed when I find myself ankle deep in a dark, crimson liquid. Boom! Another cannon. Who was it? Boom! Was that Violet? Gloria? Julius? Laurel? Cedar? Betony? Graham? Boom! Boom! Boom!_

My eyes snap open. Silence. It was only a nightmare. I sit up in bed, relieved to see the glossy wooden floorboards instead of the ocean of blood. I notice that no one has woken me up, for a change, and glance out the window to see that it's still dark outside. It must not be time yet.

I hate days like this. Days when you wake up too late to go back to sleep and too early to do anything but wait.

Waiting is torture.

I get changed into the most inconspicuous outfit I can find in my colorful wardrobe and sit on the edge of my bed, ready to stare at the clock for as long as I need to. I should be glad for the extra time. For all I know, these could be my last hours alive. But I'm not glad. Every second I spend sitting here just means more time to think about the 6th annual Hunger Games. How they'll start today. How I'll be in them. How I have absolutely no idea whether I'll be alive tomorrow.

The minutes seem like hours as the numbers on the clock flash. I can't help but be reminded of the old clock in the general store, even though the smooth chrome contraption on my nightstand doesn't resemble it in the least. Linden and Rowan made a game of it sometimes, placing bets on how many times it would ring at twelve o' clock. It rarely makes it past five, even on good days. I wonder what they're doing now.

_Beep!_ The sharp noise startles me. I glance at the clock again. 6:00.

I open the door and find Violet right where I left her. She must have come back to the kitchen after I had gone to sleep. She's sitting in the same chair, her head resting on the table. I sit down in the chair across from her, trying not to make any noise.

An Avox walks into the room with a tray of food, and sets it down on the table. Violet jumps, startled, and raises her head.

"Is it morning?" she asks groggily. I nod.

Even with some of the best food in Panem in front of me, I can't seem to find my appetite. I eat because I'll need it later, assuming I live through the day. There's no sign of Vega, but there is a third person in the room. A Peacekeeper.

"Two hours to launch," he informs us, "Five minutes to eat." Violet nods, while I try my best to ignore him.

When our five minutes are up, we stand and walk to the elevator, which takes us up to the roof level. We enter a long corridor, the Peacekeeper following to make sure neither of us makes a break for it. Truthfully, this would be the easiest time to escape. Only one guard, an otherwise empty hallway. I resist the urge to run, knowing it would reduce my already slim chances of survival to absolutely nothing.

He leads us out the door at the end of the hall, out onto the roof. Violet looks up and gasps. I see why a split-second afterwards. A giant metal hovercraft has appeared out of thin air. A ladder comes down, and the Peacekeeper asks me to grab hold of it. I do as I'm told, and some kind of current freezes me completely, attaching me to the ladder. The ladder lifts me into the hovercraft, where a woman wearing a white coat tells me to stay still so she can inject my tracker. As if I could actually move.

After I'm set back down on the roof, it's Violet's turn. Then, another Peacekeeper shows up, which means this is the last moment we have to say goodbye. To my surprise, Violet doesn't hesitate before throwing her arms around me.

"Stay alive, okay?" she asks, her voice quavering. I nod forcefully, hugging her back. Then, Peacekeeper #1 leads her one way, while Peacekeeper #2 leads me another. I try not to think that I might never see her again.

The hovercraft ride is short. I'm taken underground, through one long hallway and a door marked Male 12. Cardea is waiting for me in the Launch Room, a small, square space where the final preparations are made to ready tributes for slaughter. Launch Room. It's a stockyard.

I close the door of the bathroom and change into the outfit I'll wear in the arena, a black T-shirt, brown pants, a green jacket, and leather boots. It could give me a clue about the arena, but you never know. For the third Games, they dressed the tributes head to toe in neon colors. When I come back out, Cardea chatters away about rumors she's heard about this year's arena. It might be helpful, if I were actually listening to her. Truthfully, all I'm doing is staring at the tall glass cylinder in the corner of the room, which will take me up to the arena in just a few minutes. Cardea notices.

"Oh, don't you worry," she says, putting a hand on my shoulder, "You'll be okay." I nod blankly. Suddenly, the glass cylinder spins around, revealing an opening in the side. It's time to go.

"Remember to keep your head up, Al," my stylist tells me, and for a second I wonder if her words mean something more than just _Look good for the Capitol!_ I nod, and she hugs me before letting me walk into the tribute tube.

The door slides shut behind me. There's no turning back. I look to Cardea, starting to panic, but my pedestal is already rising. For a second, everything is dark. Then, I'm caught in the blinding glare of the sun. When my eyes adjust to the sudden brightness, I find myself in a very unfamiliar place. The arena. My arena.

The Games have truly begun.

**Again, sorry for being so late! Thanks for your patience! XD Anyone who reviews will get a clue about the arena!**


	14. Chapter 14: Anyone But Violet

**I'm back! Sorry for the wait :( I have a couple essays I need to write, as well as a big test to be terrified for… Thank you so much to everyone who read and reviewed, especially those I can't reply to, like ihavenoaccount :)**

**Well, here it is, the Cornucopia battle!**

_I stare at the sky, willing it to be anyone but Violet. –Alder Zane_

Chapter 14

I've never been so grateful I can swim. The water isn't the only way to or from the Cornucopia, but it's my best option. For the tributes who aren't strong swimmers, there are two narrow land bridges running across the wide lake, one straight to the golden horn, and one straight into the forest. I can see the girl from District 2, Celestina, standing three of four pedestals away from me. She's eyeing one of the bridges, positioning her feet to make a leap for it when the time comes. I feel sorry for the tributes who know that bridge is their only hope, since they'll have to go through Celestina, who will undoubtedly be guarding it.

I don't see any more of the Careers on my side of the Cornucopia. I don't see Violet, either. The only others I recognize are the two tributes from 11, and the constantly trembling boy from 3. I should be able to swim to the Cornucopia's small island in a relatively short amount of time. I'm truly surprised at myself for preparing to run right into a bloodbath. But the dangers of being caught by the Careers, all of whom will most likely make it there before I do, are forgotten when I catch sight of a spear, leaning against a crate of supplies at the edge of the island. I focus on the countdown and get ready to swim, my eyes never leaving my weapon.

The Cornucopia is a trap, designed to lure us in with all the supplies we can't get on our own, like medicine and sleeping bags. The funny thing is that everyone who goes into the bloodbath is aware of that, even me. It's like a rabbit watching someone set a snare, and then stepping right into it.

"Ten…nine…eight…" says the voice of Augustus Silverwood, who will be safe in the Capitol while we're dying in the wilderness. His biggest worry right now is whether or not he can pronounce all sixty numbers of the countdown, which is just a way of saying he's got nothing to worry about at all.

"Five…four…three…" I glance down to the blue-green surface of the lake and wonder for a moment if I should have spent more time at the fishing station.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let the 6th Hunger Games begin!" The jarringly loud sound of a gong rings out, and there's a huge splash as I, along with most of the other tributes, leap into the water.

It isn't the cold that slows me down so much as the heavy clothes I'm wearing. By the time I climb up onto the Cornucopia's island, the majority of the tributes are already there. I start to run for the spear, but another tribute elbows me out of the way as she darts past to pick up a long metal blowgun. It's the girl from 11. She doesn't turn to see who she knocked down, with only enough time to grab her weapon and a backpack before jumping back into the water.

I start to get to my feet, and am nearly decapitated by the blade of an oversized axe. Thankfully, the boy from 2 is taking no notice of me, preoccupied with trying to lodge his weapon in the boy from District 6. I scramble out of the way just before his weapon swings by in what would have been a fatal blow.

I'm too late to get my spear. Julius reached the supply crate just before I did, picking up my weapon and forcing me to retreat to the other side of the island. I spot a few other spears, but much farther in than I want to risk going. I'm thinking about how I can't afford to leave empty handed when I nearly trip over a small backpack. I put it on and start running for the water. Moments after the splash, I hear Prime's voice, and think of how glad I am the Gamemakers decided to put us on opposite sides of the circle.

I make it to land again safely, washing up on a sandless beach in a matter of minutes. No one has followed me. I take a moment to catch my breath and check for injuries. I've actually managed to make it out of the bloodbath with only a few scrapes and bruises to show for it. I celebrate by allowing myself a few minutes more to recover.

After I rest as long as I can afford to, I drag myself from the soggy dirt into a standing position. It's time to put as much distance between myself and the other tributes as possible.

Nearly a minute after I've started walking through the woods, five cannon blasts rock the arena. Five? I'm in disbelief. There has never been less. Never from the bloodbath.

I'm still walking, still wondering how so many could have escaped, when the sun starts to sink lower in the sky. I decide I've traveled far enough to risk stopping for the night. Before I sleep, though, I have to sort through my supplies. I may not have a chance to in the morning. The Gamemakers can't be pleased with the unsatisfactory Cornucopia battle, and are probably planning a punishment for us.

The contents of my backpack are spread out on the ground by the time the sun disappears below the horizon. I find knife with a short, serrated blade, an empty water bottle, a length of rope, a packet of dried apple slices. The most valuable item inside the pack is a collapsible fishing pole, which will be remarkably useful in an arena like this.

As I'm packing away my supplies, Panem's national anthem begins to play. I look up to see the Capitol seal has appeared in the night sky. Just like watching the death recap at home. I wonder if they'll play the footage of their deaths for us. Probably not, since it might tell tributes too much about their competition. Some people want to keep their talents hidden from the others.

The first face I see is the girl from District 3, followed by her district partner. Next comes the boy from District 6, and the girl from 7. I wonder vaguely how the boy from the elevator has taken her death, if he's still alive to see her face in the sky.

There's only one more tribute to go. I'm surprised. It means most, if not all of the tributes from the outer districts have made it through the day. I stare at the sky, willing it to be anyone but Violet.

It isn't Violet. She's made it past the bloodbath. The final dead tribute is Gloria, the District 9 girl from the knot-tying station. Before it's replaced by the Capitol seal, I notice her picture is one of the few headshots where the tribute is smiling.

Five dead. What seemed like so little before is unimaginable now. They aren't just faces on a screen, like they'd seem if I were watching this at home. They're all people, who struggled through the reaping, training, and interviews just as I did. And now, all five of them are gone.

So why am I still here?

**Thanks for reading, please tell me what you think of the first arena scene! XD**


	15. Chapter 15: I Plan On Going Home

**Hi! :D Welcome to Alder's first full day in the arena! I don't really have anything more to say…Except that Alder Zane was not named after anyone in One Direction :) I like their music, but not enough to name a character after one of them. I chose the name Zane because of a character in a series called The Uglies. If you haven't read the books yet, they are amazing!**

**A huge thanks everyone for reviewing!**

**Guest: Thank you so much! I can't believe it either! The last fanfiction I finished was only 24 chapters long, with only 8 days in the arena. I'm planning for these Games to last for at least 18 days, so it'll be way longer :)**

**Ihavenoaccount: Right away! :D Here it is:**

_What am I trying to achieve by walking all this way, besides putting distance between me and my enemies? If I plan on going home, I'll have to turn around and face them eventually. –Alder Zane_

Chapter 15

I'm on the ground. In the forest. I rub the sleep out of my eyes and sit up against a tree. How in Panem did I get out here? I look from side to side, hoping to catch sight of one of the familiar grey Seam houses. Nothing. I get to my feet, brushing the pine needles of my clothes, knowing I'll be late for school if I don't get moving. I'm still wondering how I managed to wander so far without realizing it. When I think about it, I can't remember this walk in the woods at all. I can't remember leaving the house, and I can't remember crawling under the electric fence. Maybe I'm just a really talented sleepwalker…

_Boom!_ The thunderous sound of a cannon brings me back to reality. Everything, the reaping, the Capitol, the bloodbath, comes flooding back to me so suddenly I find myself paralyzed for a moment, unable to start moving again.

Who was that?

I take up my backpack, debating whether to ignore the hunger I'm starting to feel. I ignore it. I'll survive. That's one advantage I have over the Careers. Families of seven in District 12 aren't fed nearly as well as families of seven in, say, District 1. They probably wouldn't last long without food.

Of course, that's not a problem for them, since they've undoubtedly claimed the majority of the supplies from the Cornucopia.

I start walking back the direction I came from, towards the lake. It seems funny for a major water source to be so easy for us tributes to access. Maybe I'm not the only one who didn't get water purification tablets from my backpack. But there are other ways to purify water, as I learned on one of my first days of training. I could boil it, too. It might be a little more effective if I had another container… And some matches…

I reach the shore of the lake, but stop dead in my tracks when I hear a loud voice.

"Em, pass me that rope, would you?" asks a voice I recognize as Julius's. I look to my left to see that I'm barely twenty feet away from one pile of supplies and six Career tributes. Luckily, they seem to be too preoccupied with their conversation to notice me.

"Why?" asks Emerald.

"I need it."

"That doesn't say much," says one of the other Careers, "For all we know, you need it to choke us all during the night." A round of laughter follows the statement, and a frustrated-looking Julius crosses the campsite to get the rope himself.

I take a step back, slowly, carefully. None of the tributes turn their heads. I take another step. And another. I'm nearly at the edge of the woods again when I start running. The importance of getting water has been forgotten. I need to get away.

I don't know how far or how long I've been running. But I decide it's enough. I come to a halt and try to catch my breath.

_Snap!_ I whirl around. What was that? All I see behind me is a thick clump of bushes and the usual pine trees.

_Snap!_ This motivates me to start walking again.

What am I trying to achieve by walking all this way, besides putting distance between me and my enemies? If I plan on going home, I'll have to turn around and face them eventually.

_Snap!_ Now I'm worried. The sound has gotten louder. Closer. I glance behind me to see if I'm being followed. It doesn't look like it. I turn around and keep walking. That's when I hear a crash from behind.

That's when I turn to see the animal plowing through the brush, charging straight towards me.

**Sorry for the wait, sorry for the short chapter, sorry for the cliffhanger! I'll try to write the next chapter ASAP :) Thanks for reading, PLEASE review!**


	16. Chapter 16: Too Much to Hope For

**Hey guys! Sorry I took so long with this chapter! Thanks so much to all of you who reviewed the last chapter! Well, both of you :) I know, it was a bit boring, being a filler and all, and I don't blame you if you didn't' want to review. But I really could use feedback and comments if you have them XD I hope this one can be a little more exciting, and please review!**

_It was too much to hope for. –Alder Zane_

Chapter 16

There are plenty of bears in the forests of District 12. But they live deeper into the woods than even Cedar dares to go. He stumbled upon a grizzly once, and the story had kept us entertained for weeks, since he told the tale in vivid detail every time he thought one of us had forgotten it. It started with him searching for game as usual. Then, he tells us, he saw movement in the bushes. He took out his knife, prepared to kill what he thought was a wild dog. We suspect he was exaggerating about actually driving off the creature, though. Laurel always told him it was more likely he climbed up a tree and hid there until the bear lost interest. However it happened, we never really got tired of hearing the story, especially when Cedar told it.

This is different.

The bear crashes towards me at top speed. "Top speed" isn't too fast for this animal, but what it lacks in speed, it makes up for in everything else. It has to be at least four or five times my size, big, burly, and covered in thick black fur. I scramble out of the way, tripping over my own feet as I run. I just manage to avoid a paw bigger than a Capitol dinner plate, armed with a set of nasty-looking claws, as it swings over my head. I'm thrown forward before I can straighten up again, and the bear nearly runs me over. It's a mutt. It has to be.

I weave my way through the trees, the bear closing in fast. I can't keep running forever. Eventually, I'll—

My thought is interrupted by the searing pain of claws across my back. The muttation was closer than I thought. I start to fall, but my feet keep moving on their own accord, and somehow I'm running again. I stumble through the trees, my feet catching on roots and my hands grabbing onto tree branches, forcing myself to keep going. I can hear the heavy footfalls of the animal behind me.

I keep moving, pulling back a tree branch and hoping it snaps into the creature's face, to slow it down enough for me to escape. It was too much to hope for.

I am forced to a stop in front of a tight wall of tree trunks. One quick glance behind me proves I'm out of luck. The mutt is lumbering towards me at an almost leisurely speed, knowing there's no escape for me. Death on the second day. For the sake of my family as well as myself, I hope it's fast.

I look away from the steadily approaching bear, trying to find some way, _any_ way out of this. There. A barely visible gap between two trees. It takes a good three seconds to squeeze myself through, enough time for the bear to close the distance between us and stick his massive paw through the opening after me. I scramble back on all fours. As soon as I'm out of reach, I'm running again.

I crash through the bushes and into a small clearing. The tribute standing in the middle of it only has time to turn and gasp before I slam into them, sending us both tumbling down a hill.

* * *

I open my eyes. I may as well have kept them closed. Everything has a fuzzy edge, blurred across my vision. How long have I been unconscious? Was I unconscious at all? I stare up at the sky, squinting to make it clearer. It's grown darker than before, I'm sure of it. I blink a few times, clearing the blurriness enough to see a figure lying a few feet away. I get to my knees and crawl, feeling like I've just been run over by one of the tribute trains.

She's in bad shape. Bruised and bloodied from the fall just as I am, but with a long gash in the side of her head that has to be from the Cornucopia. Her eyes are closed.

Violet.

**Please review!**


	17. Chapter 17: Together

**Once again, sorry it took so long for me to update! I was distracted by A. homework, as always... and B. This amazing forum, which we're proud to say is now in the coveted #3 spot in Hunger Games forums. :) We're always looking for new members, so if it sounds interesting to you…**

** forum/Hunger-Games-Roleplay/116078/**

**Please check it out! XD It's so much fun :) **

**And thank you so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! **

**Especially Kevin and Lauren, because I can't reply to you and I want you to know just how happy your reviews made me feel! I mean, I literally was just checking my email and when I read your reviews I couldn't stop smiling :) **

**Lauren: I'm so glad you liked 73, too! That one's my very first one, and I was a bit unsure on it, since it's been so long since I wrote it. I'm actually planning on writing another about the same Games, from the enemy's point of view :) Thanks again! So much! Oh, and I am fourteen years old and the next chapter will be up…Now! :D**

_I can't help but think, though, that it would be easier for us to go through this together. –Alder Zane_

Chapter 17

Getting Violet back up to the campsite may not have proven to be such a problem if I hadn't been so disoriented from the fall. Maybe I hit my head against something on the way down. Something that knocked me out for the better part of the day.

When I finally reach the top of the hill, I set my district partner down in the middle of the clearing. I search a small stack of supplies to find a roll of bandage for her head wound. Luckily, it isn't a very deep cut, though it's long, running from below her ear to just above her eyebrow. It looks as if the bleeding has nearly stopped, so I try to cover the gash with the bandage. I think of the risks she must have taken to get the few supplies she had, on the same side of the Cornucopia as the ruthless District One tributes.

I should leave while Violet is unconscious. She's well hidden here, after all, with the bushes and trees concealing the clearing from sight. When she woke up, she would be alone again. She could go back to her strategy, which seemed like it must have been working for her until I came along and messed it up for her. If I started walking now, maybe I could make it back to the lake by morning…

The thought crosses my mind once, but it's enough to make me less sure of my decision. What if I did stay? We might last longer if the two of us worked together. Longer. Not longest. One of us, if not both of us, will have to die. I can't help but think, though, that it would be easier for us to go through this together… Even if… Even if it's only…Only temporary…For a little while…If I started walking now, maybe I could make it back… I should leave while Violet is unconscious… How long have I been unconscious?... There are plenty of bears in the forests of District Twelve… I've never been so grateful I can swim…

What seems like a moment later, the sound of a voice wakes me from an unintentional nap.

"Alder?" I open my eyes to see a fully conscious Violet kneeling beside me. Even if I had planned on something to say, she wouldn't have given me any time to say it. As soon as she sees I'm awake, she hugs me tightly. When she pulls back again, she's crying.

"Sorry," she says, wiping her eyes, "I'm just really glad to see a friendly face." She cracks a smile, and then starts laughing. To my surprise, I join in. Overwhelmed and exhausted from the past days' events, neither of us dare pass up a chance to be happy about something. Especially since we may not have many more of these chances.

"The cannon yesterday. I thought the Careers might have found you…" she says. I shake my head. I missed the faces in the sky last night, so I still have no idea who died yesterday morning. We can only hope it was one of the stronger tributes, which is horrible, when I think about it. To hope for someone to die, even if you barely know who they are.

I mumble an apology about running into her yesterday. She smiles.

"Hey, it might have been for the best, right?" she asks. I nod.

Later on, we decide to get something to eat. I turn around to reach my supplies and wince, immediately aware of a stinging pain in my back. The muttation attack comes back to me, and I take off my jacket to find it in shreds.

"What happened?" Violet asks me, and then pauses in realization, "Is that why you were running?" I nod, and she examines the tears in the jacket.

"Are you hurt?" she asks. I shrug. She doesn't accept this as an answer, and has me turn around.

"Oh," she says after a moment, "It doesn't look very deep, but it's still bleeding…" After having me remove my shirt so she can clean the cuts, Violet digs through her pack and pulls out a roll of bandages.

"What were you running from?" she asks.

"A bear," I say.

"Was is a mutt?" I nod.

"Was it big?" I nod.

"What did it look like?"

"You ask a lot of questions," I tell her. She smiles and tosses me my shirt.

"Glad you're okay," she says. After a second, I ask her how she got cut.

"The boy from 1," she says, "When I was trying to get my supplies." She gestures to the backpack and bedroll behind us. She did make out fairly well from the bloodbath.

Later on, we realize our meager food supply won't last us forever.

"Do you know how to hunt?" asks Violet. I think about it. Maybe, if I had a spear… I don't have a spear. Chances are, I'm not going to get a spear. I should forget about it. I shake my head. Suddenly, I remember something. I unzip my backpack and show Violet the fishing rod.

"Wow! I didn't get anything like that," she says, looking at the tool.

"I didn't get matches," I say. Violet smiles.

"It's a good thing we're allies, then," she says. I nod, and this time, I mean it.


	18. Chapter 18: Trust

**I apologize for the long wait… Semester exams at my school… But I plan to get a few more chapters out during winter break! Thank you for bearing with me!**

_There's no reason why we should trust these tributes. –Alder Zane_

Chapter 18

I end up feeling glad I visited the fishing station. I manage to make a decent fishhook out of a bit of wire Violet had in her pack. And as we sit by the lake, me fishing and Violet keeping watch for tributes, we talk. Or rather, Violet talks, and I listen. She doesn't seem to mind. She tells me about her family back home. Her parents, like mine, are both coal miners. They work on the other side of town. She also has a little brother, Benjy, who's the same age as Rowan's sister. She smiles whenever she talks about him. Listening to the stories Violet has to tell, I almost forget about the arena around us.

We get back to Violet's camp with a few small fish and two full water bottles. We try to remember the correct amount of iodine to purify them and set the bottles aside while we cook the fish.

"Alder," says Violet, "Alder, wake up." I open my eyes. It's dark out.

"No one died," she says, answering my thoughts, "Just your turn to keep watch." I nod, and sit up. I get out of the sleeping bag and give it to her.

"Thanks," she says. She lies down and closes her eyes, and I lean back against a tree, ready to wait out the night.

It can't be much more than an hour later. It's nearly pitch-black, even with my eyes adjusted to the darkness. I hear a rustle from one of the trees, and I'm on guard immediately. I stand up, keeping a hand around the hilt of my knife. But all I can see is a vague outline of the trees against the sky.

_Screech!_ The creature comes out of nowhere. I shout and duck out of the way as it swoops toward my head. I expect to hear it collide with a tree, but there's nothing. Out of the corner of my eye, a shadow moves swiftly. I whirl around, but I can't see a thing.

Violet wakes up and calls out to see if I'm okay. I nod, though she won't be able to see me.

_Screech!_ It's back. This time, I see its figure as it flies over our heads. It's some sort of night bird. Violet yelps as it starts to circle above us.

"What is that?!"

_Screech!_ The bird launches itself at my ally. Violet screams and dives to the side, still pursued by the creature. After the sounds of a struggle, combined with the muffled screeches of the night bird, I hear a dull _thump_, and the creature disappears, weaving through the trees.

"Are you there?" Violet asks. I walk over to the shadowy figure I assume is my district partner. She's holding something. A backpack, I think, she must have had to swing it like a mace to get rid of the night bird. I almost smile.

"Was it another mu-" she doesn't have time to finish her sentence.

_Screech!_ The bird flies right into me and tries to rake its claws across my face. Violet screams again, and I try to shove the bird's talons away.

_Bad idea_, I think as I feel the sharp claws digging into my hands. Suddenly, the bird screams and falls limp to the ground. I look in the direction of where Violet should be, but I hear a new voice.

"This is them?" asks the voice. I don't recognize it, only that it belongs one of the girls. But it doesn't sound like she's talking to us.

"District Twelve," responds another voice. I'm almost positive this one is the boy from 11. I hear footsteps as one of them walks in my direction and stops abruptly in front of me. It's almost like they can see in the dark.

"You're from Twelve," says the girl, "You should know better than to set up camp near a mockingjay nest."

"That was a mockingjay?" asks Violet in disbelief.

"They get defensive," says the boy from 11.

"Put these on," says the girl, handing me something. A pair of glasses, it seems like. I put them on and blink in the sudden light. Night vision. I can see everything now.

"Whoa!" exclaims Violet, who must have been given a pair as well.

"Yeah," says the boy from 11 with a slight smile, "We see them a lot in Eleven. They hand them out sometimes, when we need to work after dark."

"We should get back to camp," says the girl, looking around. She seems to be the one in charge. I recognize her as the girl from 11. The one with an eleven in training. She looks to be about Laurel's age, maybe older. Not as big as a typical Career, or as tall as her district partner. She still has a few inches on me, though, and she's holding the blowgun she picked up at the Cornucopia. The Gamemakers don't give elevens to just anyone. It's probably smart to do what she says.

"Who are you?" asks Violet. The boy must not have had the chance to speak with her during the interviews.

"I'm Leandros," says the boy.

"Jacinth," says the girl, "Are either of you severely injured?" I glance at my arms, which have a few long but shallow scratches, and then at Violet, whose nose is bleeding. She shakes her head, and I do the same.

"Good," she says, "Let's go." She turns and starts walking away with Leandros close behind. Violet starts to follow, but I hesitate. Violet looks back at me.

"Are you coming?" I don't respond. There's no reason why we should trust these tributes. I look away and find myself staring at the mockingjay, lying still on the ground with a metal dart in its neck. All it was trying to do was protect its family…

"It's still alive," says Jacinth. I jump, unaware she had come back to stand next to me. Her brown eyes meet my grey ones.

"The dart I used, it didn't kill it," she says. Her voice has lost the sharp tone it held before. I nod.

"We're going to go back to the camp. You and your partner, you'll be safe there." She starts walking again. This time, I follow.


	19. Chapter 19: Stay On Guard

**Sorry it's been so long! I've just posted two new stories, and I was trying to write a few more chapters for them before I got back to my old ones. Also, the chaos of the holidays! But I have nothing going on this week and will do nothing but write, write, write XD Until then, here is chapter 19!**

_"I head into the woods after Leandros, promising myself I'll stay on guard." –Alder Zane_

Chapter 19

"What're your names, then?" asks Leandros.

"I'm Violet. He's Alder," says Violet.

"Well, hey," he says.

"Hey," says Violet, starting to smile. I nod.

"You don't like talking much, do you, Alder?" asks Jacinth, who's keeping a few paces ahead of the rest of us, "I remember your interview." I cringe.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," she says. She's turned back around and started walking again, so I can't see her expression.

We follow Jacinth and Leandros to another clearing, this one slightly larger. A few supply backpacks have been dumped in a pile around the edge. In the middle of the camp is a small bundle of charred branches, the remains of a fire.

"Get some rest," says Jacinth, "We'll talk tomorrow." Violet nods, puts down her backpack, and lies on the ground. I take off my glasses and zip them into my pocket. My jacket and backpack are just as good as any blanket or pillow, but I don't sleep. I can't. No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to trust the tributes from 11.

But at the same time, why would they want to kill us?

_Because this is the Hunger Games,_ says a small voice in the back of my head, _Because only one tribute can get out of here alive._

I want to ignore this voice. I want to trust our new allies. But I can't let it go. So I stay awake.

Jacinth and Leandros are having a hushed conversation on the other side of the clearing. I only catch a few words, but it's enough for me to tell. The tributes from 11 are worried about something.

"Should have been…"

"You think he…"

"…an hour ago."

I can't make sense of it, so I try to block out the words. Soon enough, their voices fall silent. And I fall asleep.

I wake up to the same conversation, louder this time. Before I even open my eyes I can be sure they're talking about another tribute.

"I swear, if he went and got himself killed—" says Jacinth angrily.

"No cannons," responds Leandros, "Besides, he's too smart to walk right into a trap like that."

"Who?" asks Violet, sitting up.

"We have another ally," says Leandros, "But we haven't seen him since noon yesterday."

"He was _supposed_ to be here when we got back," says Jacinth.

"Oh…" says Violet. At this point, I'm wide awake, so I sit up as well.

"Morning," says Violet. I nod back.

"We're all up," says Leandros, "Let's get some breakfast." Jacinth thinks for a moment.

"We should split up," she says, "Two to hunt and two to watch the camp." Leandros nods.

"I'll go this time," he tells his district partner. Then he turns to me. "Can you hunt?" I shrug and show him my knife.

"Fair enough," he says, "Let's go." I glance back at Violet, who nods. She seems to have already put her trust in Jacinth and Leandros. I can see why. They aren't Career tributes, but they almost have that same confidence about them. They have supplies they're willing to share. But why us? We're untrained; we know nearly nothing about surviving in the wilderness. Sure, I could use a spear. If I actually had one. But since I don't, I'm useless with weaponry. So there's no harm in being careful; in case they'd rather eliminate two tributes from the competition than gain two allies. I head into the woods after Leandros, promising myself I'll stay on guard.

Once we're far enough away from the camp, Leandros unsheathes a knife of his own, and slows his pace. I try to copy him, taking each footstep carefully. Soon enough, the only sounds I hear are of nature. At least, the "nature" the Gamemakers have created for us. I wonder if the entire arena is artificial. I mean, if the Gamemakers can create a monster bear, what's to stop them from making an entire fleet of genetically altered animals? But the trees, at least, seem real enough. They look just like the ones in the forest at home. And what about the sun? That has to be real; the Gamemakers can't just build their own sun.

Can they?

I'm no longer paying attention fully. When Leandros stops walking, I nearly knock him over.

"Sh!" he says. He's heard something. I strain my ears, trying to listen. The sound is so soft, I have no idea how Leandros could have heard it before. It's distant, but almost certainly voices. As they come into range, I hear that the tributes they belong to are yelling. And heading our way.

Leandros grabs me by the hood of my jacket and all but yanks me in the opposite direction.

"Run! Go!" he exclaims. I stumble over roots as I'm dragged like a Capitol pet on it's leash, struggling to turn myself around. Leandros lets go of my jacket, and I can once again face the right direction. The voices are getting louder. They're gaining. Minutes pass, and we still haven't gotten away.

"Left!" shouts Leandros suddenly, pointing with his knife hand and nearly decapitating me. I make a sharp turn and crash into a wall of vegetation. I shut my eyes to avoid being blinded by the twigs scratching at my face and hands, and throw myself into the brush.

Once on the other side of the undergrowth, I allow myself to slow down. Leandros is losing speed as well.

"What was that?!" he asks, finally coming to a stop. I'm leaning against a tree; too busy catching my breath to give him a shrug. He wouldn't have seen me. He's staring back at the wall of brush like he expects it to come alive.

"Aah!"

Suddenly, a tribute crashes through, cursing furiously as he trips and nearly does a somersault in his fall to the ground. I draw my knife immediately, but Leandros hesitates, shaking his head in disbelief. I look at him, confused, and then back to the boy on the ground. I must have seen him at the Training Center. Tall with a shock of white-blond hair sticking out in every direction, he'd be kind of hard to miss.

We stay like this for a long moment, Leandros shaking his head, the boy lying on the ground, and me taking constant glances at the bushes to make sure he wasn't followed. Then the boy raises his head, and he's grinning despite a nasty bruise across the side of his face. One of his eyes is swollen shut.

"Did'ya miss me?" he says jokingly, his grin growing broader.

"Jacinth is going to _kill_ you," says Leandros seriously.

"Someone's gotta do it."

"Shut up," says Leandros, helping the new tribute off the ground, "We have to get back to camp." The boy nods, looking slightly disoriented once he gets to his feet.

"Alder, this is Terrence," says Leandros.

"Hi, Alder," says Terrence without missing a beat, "What are you in for?" I don't understand quite what he's saying, so I don't answer. He laughs, confusing me further.

"You're that kid from Twelve, aren't you?" I nod.

"Okay," he says, "I'm that kid from Nine. Nice to meet you. Now, let's get this over with." With that, he starts walking in the wrong direction.

I guess this is my new ally.


	20. Chapter 20: Decision

**AN: Sorry it's been so long! Writer's block + school = x_x But here's the next chapter! :D Hope you enjoy!**

_"What am I saying?" muses Terrence. After a long pause, he seems to make his decision._

Chapter 20

Once Leandros gets the boy from 9 turned in the right direction, Terrence leads the way back to camp. We find Jacinth and Violet sitting on the ground, waiting for us.

"Did you get food or wh- Terrence!" exclaims Jacinth angrily, getting to her feet.

"It's the end of the line," says Terrence to himself, "And I was doing so well, too…" I can tell his sarcasm gets on Jacinth's nerves, as it's obvious she cares whether the boy from 9 lives or dies. Maybe even more than Terrence himself.

"C'mon, Jacinth," says Leandros, "We didn't get the chance to hunt, but we can eat the fruit and crackers." The girl from 11 reluctantly turns away from Terrence as her district partner opens a supply pack.

It's a small meal to share between five hungry tributes, but we can't afford to waste our supplies this early in the Games.

"We're going to run out eventually," says Leandros after a long silence.

"We can always hunt," says Jacinth.

"Yeah, but you know the forest isn't always reliable," points out Terrence, serious for once. "Not with the Gamemakers controlling it." Jacinth looks annoyed, but doesn't respond.

"The Careers have it easy, don't they? They got most of it," says Violet wistfully.

"They did," says Jacinth, looking thoughtful.

"It's too bad," says Terrence, "I think we could make much better use of them. Don't you?" For the first time since he returned to camp, Jacinth grins at him.

"Yeah," she says, "I think we could."

"Alder knows where their camp is," says Violet.

"Perfect," says Terrence. Leandros raises an eyebrow, looking as confused as I am.

"What are you saying?" he asks.

"What am I saying?" muses Terrence. After a long pause, he seems to make his decision. He turns to the boy from 11.

"I'm saying that we should steal from them."

**Sorry it was so short! I promise, I'll try and write the next one today!**


	21. Chapter 21: Die Trying

**Filler time! Sorry it's late :( I'm at school right now, waiting for my sister to finish tennis, which has just started -_-**

_"But the only other option is to die trying." –Alder Zane_

Chapter 21

When we finally stop walking, safely out of sight behind the thick shrubbery, I notice a change in the Careers' camp. Their enormous stack of supplies has been leveled. Now the crates and backpacks are spread out on the ground. In the middle of it all stands Julius, inspecting the tip of his spear and looking all too content for a Career who's missing out on a hunting trip.

"What now?" asks Violet.

"Stick to the plan," says Jacinth.

"Nope," says Terrence immediately, "That's suicide."

"Not if we're careful," replies Jacinth, loading her blowgun and pointing it at Julius. I look down at the ground, wishing some other Career was keeping watch over the supplies. Something about the boy from 4 makes him different from the other members of his alliance. Less Career-like. He's friendly; that's it.

_At least, he_ _was_. I think, remembering the Cornucopia. Had he made any kills there? I hear a sound and look up just in time to see Julius crumple to the ground, a dart in his neck.

"C'mon!" says Leandros, jumping up and running into the camp, closely followed by Jacinth and Terrence. Leandros lifts up a crate, as Terrence opens a burlap bag and searches through it. Jacinth nods her head for Violet and I to follow them. I stand up and walk into the clearing, just before Violet tentatively does the same. Then, I pick a medium-sized crate at random. It's lighter than it looks.

As I turn to leave, I nearly stumble over something. The boy from 4. I'm about to keep going when I notice his spear, lying on the ground next to him. It seems wrong to take it from him now, but what use will he have for it?

We leave the clearing less than a minute later, each of us carrying a box. Terrence has the burlap bag slung over his shoulder, and I have the spear under my arm. The Careers will know someone was there, especially when they see Julius. Although, Leandros still does a good job of covering our tracks in the clearing. By the time we get back to our camp, we are virtually untraceable. We stack our supplies into a pile and celebrate by breaking open one of the larger crates. Apples. Terrence grins triumphantly and holds one up.

"To leaving the Careers at a loss." He takes a bite of his apple. Jacinth reaches into the crate and takes out another.

"We didn't take that much," says Violet, looking slightly uneasy.

"True," Jacinth admits, tossing the apple to Violet. "We'll have to see about that. Won't we?" Violet catches the fruit, but doesn't respond. Our allies start to talk about something as they watch the sky, most likely that fact that Julius's picture isn't there. But right now, there are other things on my mind.

I have a spear now. For the first time in nearly a week, I can try to imagine winning the Hunger Games. See myself going home. It's a blurry, faded picture, and very far away. I don't know what I'm going to have to do to get there.

But the only other option is to die trying.

**I'll try my best to get another filler chapter out today, and soon enough…ACTION. :) But I won't know how I did until you review!**


	22. Chapter 22: Lefty

**Back from aerial silks class, and I'm so exhausted…Good thing I have a lot of time to work on homework this week. I don't have to do any after school! :D So it's time to write!**

**This is the last one before I quicken the pace and catch up to where the Highlights chapter was :) (For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, this story was based on Chapter 6 of one of my other fanfictions, The Highlights. Check it out if you can? :))**

**Hope you enjoy this chapter!**

_"Easy for you to say. I'm a lefty!" –Terrence_

Chapter 22

The next few days continue in the same routine. We hunt and fish in the mornings, as well as set up our many containers to collect rainwater. We're still stealing supplies from the Careers, usually when they're on their afternoon hunting trip. The boy from 4 is alive, but his allies no longer trust him to guard their supplies. Now Celestina is in charge of keeping watch. But unlike Julius, the girl from 2 looks furious with her new job. She obviously would much rather have gone to hunt. And she might have a chance to kill a few tributes, if she were more observant. Good thing she's so easily distracted. Normally, we don't even need a diversion to be able to sneak in.

It's a strange feeling, being able to take what we need from the camp. Impossible to understand how a group of outer-district tributes are able to take advantage of the highly trained Careers like this. Not that they haven't noticed. But you'd think, eventually, they'd put two and two together and leave more tributes behind to guard.

Maybe it's the fact that we're nearly a week into the Games, and there are still seventeen tributes left.

Tragedy strikes on day six of the Games. Terrence knocks over a box on his way in, and Celestina spots him. Her expression darkens and she races to the other side of the camp, smashing into the boy from 9 and knocking him down again. Celestina swings her curved knife as Terrence tries to get away. He holds up his arm to block her, and yelps as the blade collides with his hand.

_Swoosh!_ A metal dart just misses the girl from 2. She straightens up, trying to find her attacker, but Jacinth is hidden in the bushes. It gives Terrence just enough time to get to his feet, and then they're running. Suddenly I'm yanked into the air by a terrified-looking Jacinth. She pushes me forward before racing ahead.

"Go! GO!"

I can't see Terrence or Celestina, but Jacinth seems to know which direction to run. And we run in that direction until I feel like my lungs are going to burst. Finally, we see him, kneeling on the edge of a giant hole in the ground, staring into the darkness.

"Terrence!" The boy from 9 looks up at us, pale as a ghost.

"Is she—" Leandros starts to ask, but is interrupted as a scream of fury echoes from the pit.

"She's holding on, all right." says Terrence. Despite the bitterness in his voice, he looks awfully shaken. I lean over the edge of the hole, but I see only darkness. The only thing that tells me the girl from District 2 is still there is her screeching. Jacinth stands next to me, brow furrowing in concentration as she adjusts the position of her blowgun.

"I can't get a good enough angle," she says, "I'll use up all my darts trying."

"Then we'll go," Leandros tells her, "No use wasting weapons. Besides, you really think she can climb out of there on her own?" The sides of the hole are very neatly cut, definitely the work of the Gamemakers. How's she hanging on down there? By her fingernails?

"C'mon." Like that, we're walking again. We leave the shrieking Career tribute behind. Soon, we're so far away that we can't hear her at all. But Terrence still doesn't look like himself. All the color is drained from his face, and he looks like he's in pain. I elbow him.

"What?" he says, "I'm fine. She doesn't scare me _that_ bad." He laughs quickly, but his expression turns into a grimace.

"No, but something does," says Jacinth, "Seriously, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Terrence assures her, his voice strained. I realize something is missing. I hadn't taken notice of it much before, but he always spoke with his hands, illustrating his words with motions. I look down. One of his hands is clasped tightly over the other. Blood is beginning to drip through his fingers onto the ground. Jacinth sees it, too. She grabs his hand.

Terrence cries out in pain. Jacinth's jaw drops in surprise. Two of his fingers, index and middle, are no longer there. Violet gasps.

"Terrence!" exclaims Jacinth, getting a roll of bandage out from her backpack. "Why didn't you tell us before?!"

"It'll be fine... S'just fingers." He winces as she wraps the gauze over his hand. "At least it's not my whole arm." He sees Violet and I staring.

"I won't be much of a fighter now, will I?" he asks with a weak smile. Jacinth zips up her backpack again, muttering something about him not being much of a fighter to begin with.

"You'll just have to use your other hand," says Violet slowly.

"Easy for you to say," Terrence tells her. "I'm a lefty."

Jacinth whacks him in the back of the head.

**Review and tell me how many of you would ship Tercinth? ;)**


	23. Chapter 23: New Tributes

**Not a filler, not a filler! Read on, stuff actually happens in this chapter! It's about to get very, very real for Alder.**

_"Two new tributes, and we're already talking about splitting up?" -Terrence_

Chapter 23

Despite the pain he's probably in, Terrence still manages to keep us distracted from the arena around us. We can't risk a fire tonight, so we bundle up in our coats and sit around yesterday's ashes. Terrence keeps our minds off the cold by telling an old story from his district, about a monster called the vampyre.

Vampyres, apparently, are undead creatures with razor-sharp fangs, which they use to suck the blood of humans. And according to Terrence, that turns them into vampyres, too. The claim would sound awfully unrealistic on its own. But Terrence stands up and tells the story with such enthusiasm you'd think he'd seen a vampyre attack in his own backyard.

Personally, I wouldn't be telling violent stories in a place like this. But I guess everyone has a different way of coping with the Games.

"The blood ran from the wound like a faucet. And after that—" Terrence broke off into a series of gory sound effects.

"Nice story, Terrence," says Leandros, interrupting Terrence mid vampyre-hiss. "But I think we'd better get some rest."

"Yeah, that's a good plan," agrees Terrence with a yawn.

"Who's up first tonight?" asks Jacinth.

"You should," says Leandros, "You have to sort your darts."

"I don't!" Jacinth assures him.

"We could have gotten rid of the boy from Four if you'd used the right—"

"We've been over this," says Jacinth, "I'll be careful next time, I promise."

"I'll keep watch," Violet breaks in on their argument, "It's not like I was going to get any sleep tonight anyway…" She mutters the last part, shooting a glare at Terrence, who grins.

That night, with the exception of Violet, it probably takes all of twenty seconds for us to fall asleep.

* * *

When I wake up the next morning, the campsite is considerably emptier. The tributes from 11 seem to have gone on a morning hunting trip. Terrence is packing up his bedroll, and Violet's sitting on a supply crate, looking at the picture inside her token locket.

"Hey, Al," says Terrence, giving me a three-fingered wave with his bandaged hand. Violet looks up.

"Morning, Alder." she says, looking a little downhearted. I nod.

"Can you believe we've been here a week?" asks Terrence.

"A week?" Violet seems surprised.

"Eight days, actually."

"How many tributes are left?"

"A lot. Too many. They're going to send something after us soon if we don't get more entertaining. I can feel it." There's a long silence. Terrence tosses his bedroll aside and stands up.

"I'm going to go find some berries."

"We have berries here…"

"Nah, I need to be helpful." With that, the boy from 9 turns and walks into the trees.

I pull up a supply crate and sit beside Violet.

"I wish we could just go home…" she sighs. With nothing I can say to comfort her, I nod. The silence settles again.

_Boom!_ The quiet is interrupted by a thunderous cannon blast. Violet's eyes widen.

"Who—?" she starts to ask. There's a rustle in the bushes, and I fumble for my knife.

But then, Jacinth and Leandros walk into the clearing, two tributes in tow.

"Hey," Jacinth greets us, "Meet our new allies. Aurora." She points at a little girl with long hair and wide brown eyes. "And Pyrrhus." She points at a boy who looks to be about Terrence's age. "They're from Ten. And you both, this is Alder and Violet, from District Twelve."

"Hi," Violet says, giving the new tributes a wave. I don't say anything. Of course, I'm not opposed to the idea of new allies. With this many tributes, we have a larger alliance than the Careers.

And we're always willing to one-up the Career tributes. Aren't we?

"Don't take it personally," I hear Leandros whisper to the little girl, Aurora. "Alder's not much of a talker." I smile slightly.

"Who died?" asks Violet.

"Boy from Two," replies Jacinth, "Hey, where's Terrence?"

"Present!" calls the boy from 9, stumbling through the bushes and into the clearing. He holds up a leather pouch. "Just berry-picking."

"You missed the introduction," said Leandros. "This is Aurora, this is Pyrrhus. District Ten."

"Terrence, District Nine." Terrence introduces himself with a little bow.

"Why do you want us in your alliance?" asks Aurora immediately. Then she shrinks back, as if she's afraid she wasn't supposed to ask that.

"Because it's fair," says Jacinth. "You know how many advantages the Career districts have in the Games. They're trained, they hunt in a big pack. Well, now we have our own pack. We've got all the outer districts together, except the girl from—" She glances at Terrence, who's suddenly become very interested in his shoes. "Never mind."

I think of Gloria, the last face I saw in the sky on the first day of the Games, and wonder if Terrence knew her. Or maybe, like me, he'd come to enjoy her company in the days leading up to the arena. I get the feeling he wouldn't want to talk about it, either way.

"Let's eat lunch," says Leandros, sitting on another supply crate. Wow, I really must have slept in. The other tributes sit down on the ground. Despite our success in the Career "robberies", most of the crates we have aren't big enough to serve as adequate chairs.

I pass around the leftover rabbit meat from yesterday's hunting trip.

"Thank you," says Aurora. I nod.

"Did you get all this from the Cornucopia?" asks Pyrrhus. He has some sort of accent, one that I can't place.

"No," says Leandros, "We stole it."

"From the Careers!" Violet chimes in; briefly regaining some of the cheerfulness the arena had taken away from her.

"Really?" Aurora's eyes widen in awe.

"Yep," says Jacinth.

"Have they noticed?" asks Pyrrhus.

"You bet," Terrence tells him, discreetly hiding his bandaged hand in his jacket pocket. It's safe to say that everyone is enjoying the admiration from the District 10 tributes. I think it's well deserved, considering what we had to do to get it.

"Okay," says Leandros, serious again. "Now we need to talk."

"About what?" asks Violet.

"The end of the alliance," says Jacinth. Well, now we know what they talk about on their early-morning hunting trips.

"What? Two new tributes, and we're already talking about splitting up?" Terrence seems skeptical.

"You know we've been waiting to break until the field's been narrowed down. There's still a few middle district tributes. Both from Eight, and the boys from Five and Seven. They're not going to be easy kills for the Careers. Then they're going to lose interest and come after us. And they've got plenty of reason to already."

"And…you have a plan." guesses Terrence.

"Yeah," says Leandros, "We're taking out the Career pack."

**Cliffie :) Because I just love those… I know it wasn't completely true to the Highlights chapter, but I changed the words around because I wrote that chapter last year and it didn't sound quite in character to me now that I have written more about all of these tributes :) Forgive me! XD**

**REVIEW! Do it for Terrence's vampyre story! XD**


	24. Chapter 24: Bad Idea

**Forgive me.**

_"This is a bad idea. A really bad idea." –Alder Zane_

Chapter 24

The next morning, no one says a single word until breakfast. The tributes from 10 look perpetually shocked, as if this was a little more than they'd bargained for. And it's more than I bargained for, too. Frankly, I don't see the chance of us being able to destroy the Career pack. The only ones in our alliance who do seem to see the chance are Jacinth and Leandros, but that's to be expected. They're definitely the best fighters in the group, the most capable survivalists. They're also the leaders. No one's ever said it, but we all know the tributes from 11 are in charge.

"Right, then." Jacinth finally breaks the silence. "Time to plan."

"Does anyone have a weapon of choice? Something they worked on in the Training Center?" No one replies. I look around at my allies.

"I can use a spear," I say slowly, hesitant to break the silence. Suddenly, everyone turns to stare at me. I blink, confused.

"Look at that…" says Jacinth, "You have a voice."

It's the first time that I've spoken since the bloodbath. And I was the last one to realize.

"Are you good at it?" asks Leandros. I feel everyone's eyes on me and shrug; wanting the attention focused somewhere else.

"Doesn't anyone else have a weapon they can use?" asks Jacinth with a sigh. Still, no one responds.

"Guess we'll just have to improvise, then."

* * *

The sun has long since disappeared, but not one member of our alliance is asleep. All seven of us are walking through the forest, heading in the direction of the Career campsite. I'm gripping my spear so hard my knuckles are turning white. This is a bad idea. A really bad idea.

Aurora, one of the tributes who had to make the trip without night-vision glasses, trips and bumps into me again.

"Sorry," she whispers, her voice an octave higher than it is normally. She's terrified. There's nothing we can do to turn our group around, though. The arguments took place last night, without success. But then, we could always leave if we wanted…

So why are we still here? The twelve-year-old next to me is probably here because she's afraid she won't make it on her own. Terrence is probably here because he's excited to get his revenge. That, or to make sure Jacinth doesn't get herself killed, as I heard him tell the girl from 11 today. And me? I'm here because if I run away from this fight, I'll never be able to live with myself.

"Everyone, get down!" Jacinth hisses. We all crouch out of sight. I push aside a branch to see a clearing full of Careers. All sleeping, except for one.

Prime. I don't know why this surprises me.

"Jacinth," whispers Aurora, "How are we going to—?"

"We?" says Jacinth, "No way, kid. You're staying in the bushes and waiting until this is over. Got it?" Aurora is silent. After a moment, she finally appears to have mustered enough courage to make an argument.

"I can't do that."

"You'll die otherwise," says Jacinth bluntly.

"I won't… I can fight just as well…" The timid girl is fighting to maintain her short-lived intrepidity.

"Absolutely not. Stay here."

"I won't do that! I have to help you!"

"You _can't_ help us, Aurora," hisses Jacinth, "We'll be fine on our own."

But Aurora is already running.

"Aurora! No!" says Pyrrhus. He tries to grab onto her jacket as she passes him, but she slaps his hand away. She overshoots and ends up stumbling through the trees, right into plain sight. Violet catches her breath.

Aurora straightens up to find herself less than two feet away from the leader of the Careers. She blinks up at the boy from 1, too petrified to move.

_Boom!_ The little girl doesn't even have time to scream. It's over in less than a second. Prime wipes the blood off his sword.

"Aurora!" Now it's Pyrrhus crashing into the clearing.

"Go! Everyone, go!" Leandros shouts, and we all jump to our feet, following the boy from 10 into the Careers' camp.

Before Pyrrhus even reaches Prime, he's knocked to the ground. Julius has woken up.

_Boom!_ The boy from 4 has a new weapon, a knife. And just like that, the tributes from 10 are gone.

Now, Leandros is locked in a battle with a sleepy, disoriented-looking Emerald. Terrence, with Violet close behind him, has woken Celestina with a sharp kick to the ribs. Jacinth shoots her darts at Julius and Prime, who shield themselves with their packs. And the girl from Four—

Someone slams into me from behind with enough force to turn a supply crate into splinters. I hit the ground hard.

_Boom!_ Dazed, I wonder if the cannon was mine.

"Leandros!" Violet's screaming jolts me back to reality faster than I can taste the blood in my mouth. I dig my elbow into my attacker's stomach and hear a gasp of pain.

The girl from District 4 is pushed back. We both struggle to our feet at once. She makes it back up much faster than I can, since I have to reach for my spear. Her boot nearly comes down on my head, but I jerk out of the way just in time. As soon as I'm on my feet again, I stab at her with my spear. She sidesteps quickly, returning my strike with a lash of her own. My head snaps backwards when her fist connects with my face. I can immediately feel the blood gushing out of my nose.

Celestina has forced Terrence to the ground, and is threatening him with her curved dagger. Emerald has turned on Violet. Julius is getting close to Jacinth, so close that she has to draw her knife. Prime's eyes land on me.

The girl from 4 draws her knife from her belt. She swings another blow, but I duck under her arm before she can hit me with her blade. Her momentum throws her off balance, and I see my chance. I force my spear forward, shoving it into her stomach.

She doesn't die immediately. She makes a choked sound, then falls to her knees with a vacant look in her eyes, like she's concentrating on something else entirely.

_Boom!_ I've killed. Ended a life. All I had to do was move my spear.

_Boom!_ Another cannon. More screaming; Jacinth's voice this time. Celestina straightens up and gives Terrence's body a good kick before moving on.

One more scream.

"Violet!" I whirl around just in time to see her collapse to the ground, clutching her throat. Emerald stands above her.

_Boom!_ No. NO! I'm shouting, and I can't understand a single word of it.

"ALDER!" Jacinth is yelling. She's cornered by the remaining Careers. "RUN!" I can't run. I won't run away. All I ever do is run away!

It's too late for anything now. Prime is coming. My hands close around the shaft of my spear, but I can't bring myself to yank it out of the girl from 4. I can't do it! My arms won't move an inch.

Julius has disarmed Jacinth. He has her blowgun. He's holding it wrong. It's not meant to be swung!

_Crack!_ Jacinth crumples like a marionette without strings. _Boom!_

I all but throw myself out of the way of Prime's sword. Still, his blade catches me in the side. The pain is like nothing I've ever felt. I stumble sideways, wheezing. But I can't lose my footing. Not now.

I am alone. I am alone. I am alone.

Jacinth's final orders. I start running; running the best I can. I hear heavy footsteps behind me. A lot of them. They're all following me. My vision blurs. I blink rapidly. Why can't I see?! The footfalls are fading. The Careers are getting lost in the forest. Cedar taught me how to find my way here. No, not here. Not here at all.

I fall to my knees, gasping. The ground is hard and rocky here. I wipe at my face, but the tears won't stop. Neither will the blood. Blood. I look down to see a scarlet stain spreading across my shirt. There's so much blood.

_Go away…Go away…_

**I apologize. Like…A LOT. That was one of the most depressing things I've ever written. Please don't kill me. I'd use this space to clarify that vampire can be spelled with an I or a Y, but I don't think I will. Whoops, too late.**

**Well…Bye…Sorry…**


	25. Chapter 25: Slipping Away

**I hope you have forgiven me for killing seven characters in one chapter that was not the Cornucopia battle… Originally, I was not going to expand the Highlights chapter into a full story, so I wouldn't have to write a seven-death fight scene like that… But now I have! Did I do all right, do you think? It was entertaining writing a crazy Alder, since he's normally so calm about everything, but don't worry, crazy-Alder will only make an appearance in a few of these chapters. Here's to victor-potential self-control!**

_"Anything to keep me from slipping away again."- Alder Zane_

Chapter 25

I wake up feeling lightheaded and disoriented. It's not morning. The sun's far too high in the sky, so it must be near noon. I draw in a quick breath as I try to sit up, pain stabbing at my side. I look down. My shirt is glued to me with blood. I wince as I yank the fabric free from the cut.

It doesn't look infected, and it's not _too_ deep. You could call it bad. But it's not nearly as horrible as I had anticipated. Not as awful as—

It all crashes down on me at once. Every minute of it. The fight. We've done just what they wanted, taken the unsatisfactory Cornucopia battle and recreated it. And now they're all dead. Aurora. Pyrrhus. Terrence. Jacinth. Leandros. Violet. Dead and gone. But not me. I was the one who got away. Because I ran again. And I hate myself for it.

_Jacinth and Leandros didn't get to take out the Careers._

_Terrence told his last story the night before, and he didn't even get to finish it._

_Violet will never get to see her little brother, who she cared so much for, again._

_They're all dead, but YOU'RE alive._

I shake my head, trying to drive the thoughts from my mind. I need to concentrate. Backpacks. We'd all brought backpacks from the camp, since we'd planned to separate at the end of the fight. Mine should have everything I need. Slowly, wounded from yesterday and aching from spending the night on the rocky ground, I pull my pack off my shoulders and unzip the top. A full water bottle. My collapsible fishing rod. A box of crackers and a pack of beef jerky. A rope. Matches. There's another item or two at the bottom of the pack, but I don't bother to keep looking through it once I find the first-aid kit.

The first thing I do is pour a little water to clean it, wincing when it runs over the wound. Once that's done, I open the first-aid kit. I take out the needle and thread carefully, not wanting to get them dirty. Then, I examine the wound in my side. It'll definitely get infected if I don't close it now.

When Laurel was eight, she sliced her leg open on a rock while she played tag with Graham. He carried her into the house. She was screaming like she had broken a bone, terrified by the blood. But it was a simple task for the healer to make a few stitches and close her cut.

I'm not excited to do that to myself, but I don't have another option.

I try not to think about it too much, but that's impossible. My hands are shaking badly, so it's an effort to keep them steady enough to make a stitch. To keep myself from crying out, I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek. The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth, making me feel sick. I stick the needle through my skin again, grimacing. It's slow work, and I'm not done yet.

In the end, the stitches are messy. In fact, I can picture District 12's healer cringing as she watches me. But they'll do the job. I don't want to attempt standing just yet. I've lost a lot of blood. So I sit back against a tree, sipping from my water bottle. I eat one of my crackers. Then, I take a good look at the forest around me. Count all the birds hidden in the trees. Watch as a tiny ant makes a journey over the first-aid kit. Look to the sky and try to see pictures in the clouds. Anything to keep me from thinking about yesterday. Anything to keep me from slipping away again.

**Reviews would be really nice! I'll try to write more and take advantage of not having writer's block for once! :D**


	26. Chapter 26: Trapped

**And the action begins again… Fifth chapter posted in 24 hours! This is my new record! XD *high fives self***

_"I'm as trapped as Lettie. There's no way I can escape the Careers' notice if I try to get out of here." –Alder Zane_

Chapter 26

After a while, I can't sit still any longer. I pack up my backpack, wrap a bandage tightly around my middle, and use the tree to help pull myself into a standing position.

After standing comes walking. A challenging task at first, since my injured side twinges whenever I take a step. But I get used to it.

Taking frequent breaks to rest, I make it to the lake. I sit down by the water's edge, take out my fishing rod, and attach a small piece of beef jerky to the fishhook. I try to copy the fishing instructor at the Training Center, drawing back my arm, and then whipping the rod out towards the water. The line only makes it about four feet, but I'm satisfied.

Plenty of time goes by, but I don't catch anything. Somehow, I don't think I meant to.

* * *

A few days later, I'm back on my feet. With practice, I'm learning to hunt better with my knife, though I still wish I had my spear. No one has died since the fight. I get the feeling that the Capitol viewers will begin to get bored with us if something doesn't happen soon.

But something does happen. I hear a terrible screaming from far away, followed by an inhuman roar. Maybe they let another bear mutt loose. I shudder at the thought, and start walking in the opposite direction.

But that doesn't do me any good. There's something strange about this part of the forest, I notice immediately. The trees are taller, and very closely spaced. It's eerily quiet. Even the birds have gone silent. The only thing I can hear is the sound of my footsteps on the ground. When I stop moving, all is still.

It's too suspicious. Almost like the Gamemakers _want_ me to notice something is wrong. But at the same time, I can't stay here. Not when every second feels like the moment before an attack. When every fiber of my being is screaming at me to run. I turn around and walk the other way, hoping I made the right decision.

I didn't. Before I know it, I'm crossing the edge of a clearing, and I'm not alone. I freeze in my tracks when I see the tributes.

The boy is lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood, which is pouring from a wound in his stomach. The girl kneels beside him, crying. Her arms have been turned a bright crimson color from her ally's blood, probably in an attempt to help him. I recognize her as the girl from District 8, the one I bumped into before the chariot parade. She covers her mouth with her bloody hands, trapping another sob. The whole scene is terrifying.

She hears a noise. But by the time she looks up, face streaked with tears, I am concealed in the bushes. The boy chokes out something.

"Lettie." The girl, Lettie, turns her attention back to her ally.

"I'm here, I'm here." She can hardly speak through her tears. I turn away, wanting to block it out.

_Boom!_ The cannon is followed by another wave of sobbing from Lettie. I have to get away. Now. I can already feel myself losing the battle for control; slipping away to the state I was in after the fight. I clench my fists and shut my eyes.

_Don't go!_

"Oh, no." I recognize the voice immediately, sickeningly sweet and filled with false concern. Emerald. Just hearing her speak, in a rage, my vision goes red. When I turn back to the clearing, I'm watching the Career pack surround Lettie and her dead ally. Lettie snaps up in surprise and hastily tries to wipe the blood from her glasses.

"You're a pretty one, aren't you?" says Julius stepping in front of the girl from 8. I imagine him taking Jacinth's blowgun and using it to split her skull.

"Back off, Jules," says Emerald with a grin, "Can't you see she's grieving?" Julius scowls at her, obviously unhappy with his nickname.

Lettie scrambles backwards, almost tripping over her own feet as she struggles to a standing position. She unsheathes her knife and holds it threateningly.

"What's wrong, Eight?" says another Career. It's Celestina. Her allies must have rescued her from the pit. I didn't recognize her voice at first, this being the only time I've ever heard her speak below a yell or above a whisper. But it's definitely the District 2 girl speaking.

Celestina grabs Lettie's arm as she tries to run, yanking her back and positioning her curved dagger against the crying girl's throat.

"Hey," interrupts Julius, "Think I should get a turn."

"You got the last one," says Prime.

"_Andromeda_ got the last one," corrects the boy from 4.

"Someone from Four." Prime dismisses his comment, further infuriating Julius.

"It doesn't matter who killed the last one," says Emerald, rolling her eyes at the boys. "She's mine, anyway."

"Who sa—" starts Prime.

"I do. Objections?" Emerald turns to Celestina.

"Knock yourself out," says the girl from 2. She shoves Lettie forward roughly, and the girl from District 8 falls to her knees in front of Emerald. The girl from 1 starts to pull a hatchet from her belt, but decides against it and selects a knife instead.

I'm as trapped as Lettie. There's no way I can escape the Careers' notice if I try to get out of here. All I can do is hope that the bushes are a good hiding place.

While the other Careers gather around Emerald and Lettie, Julius walks to the body of her ally. The boy must be her district partner, because the male tributes from 5 and 7 are both much older. Julius cuts his backpack off him with a knife.

"M'gonna check out what supplies they've got. _Objections_?" he asks mockingly, imitating his ally. He lifts up the pack and lets the dead boy fall back to the ground. In one swift movement, Lettie grabs her knife and flings it at Julius. The boy from 4 has no time to react.

_Boom!_ Julius falls to his knees, the hilt of the blade sticking out of his chest.

The only Career who looks surprised by the death of their ally is Celestina, who raises her eyebrows when she sees Julius on the ground. Emerald smirks at the now-unarmed girl from 8.

"You wasted your weapon," she says with a sneer. Lettie tries to get to her feet, but Emerald shoves her down again. Her blood-smeared glasses fly across the clearing, landing five feet away from my hiding place. Emerald crouches down so she's eye level with the girl from District 8.

"You're a fighter," she tells the girl in a smooth voice, "Let's have some fun with you." She smirks. Lettie doesn't say anything. She lies on the ground, completely defeated.

"We should get away from the bodies," mutters Prime, giving the boy from 8 a kick with the toe of his boot.

"Emerald would probably throw a fit if we had to move now," says Celestina, looking bored. She walks over to Julius, who's lying on his stomach a few yards away, and pries the backpack out of his grip. Lettie gives a cry of protest, but Emerald pins her shoulders to the ground, preventing her escape. Whatever is in that backpack must be important.

Emerald dangles her knife above Lettie's face.

"Where should I start, District Eight?" she asks. Lettie stares up at her, refusing to speak.

"You want to be admirable, huh?" says Emerald, raising an eyebrow. "We'll see." I look away as she brings down her knife. Almost a minute passes before Lettie starts screaming. I clap my hands over my ears, trying desperately to block out her agonized cries. But it's not enough.

I can't take it any longer. Slowly, I start to straighten up. I take one step away. Then another. _Crack!_ A thin branch snaps under my boot. The sound, it seems, is a thousand times louder than it should be.

Celestina whips around. I turn and start running as fast as I can, ignoring the pain in my side. After a moment, I hear her footsteps behind me.

"Where are you—?" Prime starts to yell after her, but his voice is lost in Lettie's cannon blast.

I start to lose speed quickly. Suddenly, the lake is in front of me. I don't hesitate to jump in. _Splash!_ I start swimming, trying to lose the Career in the icy water. Most people in District 12 never learn to swim, but Cedar taught himself in a lake in the woods. Then, he taught Laurel and I. Betony and Graham couldn't be convinced to spend a minute beyond the fence, though.

I desperately hope Celestina doesn't know how to swim. But I have no such luck. I hear a splash and a remarkable amount of cursing from behind and know she's still after me. I'm not a strong swimmer, especially not with my clothes and an injury slowing me down. It doesn't take long for the Career to catch up with me. Celestina grabs onto my shoulder. I yelp and struggle to get free. Suddenly, she's yanked away from me with a piercing shriek. I spin around in the water, just in time to see her panicked face as she's pulled underneath the water. She disappears from sight almost instantly. Soon, the only evidence of her being here is a few bubbles on the surface.

As hard and fast as I can bear, I start swimming again. Whatever dragged Celestina underwater will come for me next. I haul myself onto land, breathing hard, not stopping once until I reach the blanket of pine needles that covers the forest floor.

_Boom!_ I look back to the lake, and my heart almost stops. The water where Celestina once was has turned a horrible shade of red. She comes into view then, her jet-black ponytail bobbing up as her mutilated body lies facedown in the water.

I feel unsteady, like I've been spun around for and hour and a half and jerked to a stop. On my hands and knees, I retch until my stomach is empty. My vision is starting to blur again. I struggle to my feet, once again using a tree to support myself, and stagger into the woods. Deeper and deeper, until the lake is out of sight.

**Yeah, sorry for another multi-death chapter. Don't worry. From now on, I absolutely promise, the highest number of deaths in one day will be TWO. And no more. After all, there are only six tributes left…Unfortunately, Prime is one of them. Please review!**


	27. Chapter 27: No Rules to Follow

**Here's a shorter chapter, but I will make the next one longer, I promise! :) THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH! Because of you wonderful, fabulous people, this story has reached one hundred reviews! *hands out donuts to everyone who reviewed* Thank you so much for your reviews, follows, and favorites, and for those of you who are just reading, thank you too!**

_"You could say the Gamemakers never followed the rules, but it would be a lie. The Gamemakers have no rules to follow." –Alder Zane_

Chapter 27

The girl from District 6 dies the next day. Just over two weeks have passed in the arena, and there are five of us left. Prime, Emerald, the boys from Districts 5 and 7, and me. I've seen enough of the tributes from 1 to know what to expect from them. But the other two tributes, I haven't seen since the first day. I don't remember the boy from 5 well. He probably didn't do anything noteworthy during training, because I can't recall his score. His interview comes back to me eventually, though. He'd seemed almost happy to be in the Capitol. Was it a strategy? The boy from 7, I do know. He's the boy from the elevator, the one who had a plan. And he's still alive after two weeks in the Hunger Games. Whatever his plan is, it must be working.

Since my treacherous swim, I've ended up in a completely different part of the arena. And judging by the fact that I haven't encountered another tribute in nearly two days, it's a much less crowded part. I've been following the same routine every day.

_Look for berries._

_Set snares._

_Don't forget to drink water._

I repeat these words over and over in my head. Keeping myself occupied so my mind doesn't wander.

My supplies are running low. I've long since run out of crackers, and the beef jerky didn't last me very long, either. It's time to go hunting.

_Look for berries._

_Set snares._

_Violet. Jacinth. Terrence. Lean—_

_Stop!_ I clamp my hands over my ears.

_Look for berries._

_Set snares._

_Don't forget to drink water._

I spend over an hour aimlessly walking through the trees, and end my hunting trip without any game to show for it. The anthem plays, but no faces appear in the darkening sky. I decide to get some rest while I can, and take off my backpack. My stomach growls again—It's definitely been a while since I last ate—but I ignore it. I don't realize the silence has begun again until I've stretched out on the ground, using my jacket as a makeshift blanket. I sit bolt upright.

Why is it so quiet?

"Good evening, tributes!" a booming voice echoes through the silence, and I nearly jump out of my skin. But there's no danger. Not yet. Augustus Silverwood, safe and sound in the Capitol, is giving us a message.

"There are five of you left in the Games," he says, as if this is news, "I'd like to congratulate every one of you for making it so far!" I try not to look like I'm scowling.

"I trust you are appreciative of the extra water you have access to this year! But, as all of you know, one can't survive on just water. No, food is nearly as necessary. And, what an unfortunate coincidence, you all have recently discovered a shortage in your food supplies. Correct?"

He's right. I do need to find food. And it looks like the rest of the tributes have the same problem.

It hits me. My futile hunting trip. What if there was nothing there to catch? And the silence. The birds weren't singing because the birds weren't _there_. The Gamemakers had everything planned out ahead of them. And that included an arena-wide food shortage.

"Of course," says Augustus, "We would like to help you by offering a solution to this problem. You are all invited to a feast!"

I have a sudden urge to call out every foul name I know. I'll never understand how they did it, but they emptied the forest. You could say the Gamemakers never followed the rules, but it would be a lie. The Gamemakers have no rules to follow.

"Yes, it's all very new to the Hunger Games! But it's also very true. We are, indeed, going to assist you. Tomorrow, at dawn, the five of you will meet at the Cornucopia, where you will each find a backpack, marked with both your initials and your district number. These backpacks will contain enough food to keep you in good health for the entire week. Unless, of course, your backpack kills you."

He pauses, giving us a moment to let that information sink in. I'd known it would be tough before, but now it seems impossible.

"That is correct! One out of the five packs will contain only poisoned food. That's an eighty percent chance your backpack will _save_ your life, and a twenty percent chance it will _take_ your life. But I never said anything about having to take the backpack with your name on it! No, there's only one rule to this game. _Take one pack._ Not two. Not five. One. I repeat, do _not_ take more than one backpack. Good luck! May the odds be ever in your favor."

A game within the Games. So this is how they're playing it now.

**Tomorrow, the first Feast in the history of the Hunger Games. Let's see how this turns out…**


	28. Chapter 28: A Feast

**Not trying to copy Catching Fire or anything, but…land bridges. Technically, the Gamemakers of the 75****th**** Games would have been copying the Gamemakers of the 6****th**** Games, since they happened so long ago. So, behold, the inspiration for the Quell arena…**

_"It truly is a feast." –Alder Zane_

Chapter 28

The first thing I notice is the land bridges, clear paths across the lake from the forest to the Cornucopia's island. If I squint in the early light, I can see they're still sparkling with lake water, as if they've just risen from the depths. Evenly spaced, they stick out from the island on all sides, like the spokes of a wheel.

The next thing I see is the table, set just inside of the golden horn. Five large backpacks sit on top, all in a row. They're different colors, probably to help the audience tell whether we're stealing each other's packs. As I get closer, I can just make out the wide lettering on the front. The red one says SS5. The sky-blue one is EA1. The dark green one reads AB7. The navy one spells out PR1. My eyes land on the black backpack at the end of the line. AZ12. That one's mine.

I stand by a clump of bushes on the edge of the water, hopefully out of sight. The game within a Games has begun. All I have to do is wait for my chance.

I catch sight of movement in my peripheral vision. My head whips around, to see the boy from District 7 running down one of the land strips. Elevator boy. Suddenly, Emerald sprints out of the trees and onto a nearby spoke, catching up with him in a matter of seconds. He doesn't notice. Just as his hand closes around the strap of his backpack, Emerald swings her arm in a deadly arc and buries her hatchet in the back of his head.

_Boom!_ The boy's cannon sounds instantly, and he slumps over sideways, knocking the backpacks over the side of the table. Emerald yanks out her hatchet and reaches for her pack.

I don't notice Prime until he slams into his district partner with such force she goes flying across the island. The Career alliance has finally broken. Prime draws his sword as Emerald spits blood into the grass. And I see a window of opportunity. The two biggest threats in the arena are distracted, and the boy from 5 is nowhere to be found. I have to go now.

I run from my hiding place, racing across the land bridge and heading straight for the Cornucopia. By this time, Emerald has managed to get to her feet, wheezing, and draw her weapon. Prime swings his sword at her head, and she ducks under to avoid the strike. She tries slicing at him with her own blade, to no avail.

I bend down behind the table and search for my pack, not giving a second thought as to whether or not it is poisoned. I'll never be able to guess, so my best bet is to take what is given to me. Finally, I spot the black backpack. I grab it and stand up quickly, only to find myself facing the boy from District 5. He takes a step back, looking as surprised to see me as I am to see him. We both stand still for a moment, frozen like statues. A strange look crosses his face. Suddenly, he shoves me hard, knocking me to the ground. He grabs my pack and starts running.

I need another pack. I grab the first backpack I see, the crimson one that belongs to the boy who ran off with my own pack. I hope the blood-red color isn't a sign.

I sprint out of the Cornucopia and choose a land bridge at random. Anything that will get me out of here.

I glance back once and see Emerald, lying broken and bleeding on the ground. Prime flees the island wearing a light-blue backpack that does not belong to him. I turn around again, and make it back to the woods just in time. As soon as I step from the muddy bridge to solid ground, the land strips start to sink back down into the water.

I've made it.

* * *

The sun has risen, and there's enough light now to see properly. I unzip the boy from 5's backpack and take a look inside. Food. Not just any food, but _Capitol_ food. Fluffy rolls, containers of beef and mashed potatoes, even a thermos of soup that's still warm. It truly is a feast.

Just looking at it, I feel my mouth start to water. But is it safe to eat? There's only one way to find out. I take out a roll, carefully, as if it's a bomb that could go off at a moment's notice. I hold it up to the light and examine it. It looks like a normal piece of bread, naturally. This "normal piece of bread" could save me. Potentially. That or I'll be dead the moment I swallow.

I can't take it any longer. With no other way to tell whether the roll is safe, I take a bite. It's fluffy, buttery, and the best thing I've tasted in weeks. It'll be hard to regret eating the roll, no matter what it does to me. I zip up the backpack again, sit down on the ground, and wait. I'll count to sixty. If I'm not dead in a minute, I can assume the rest of the food is safe.

_One…Two…Three… Four…_

**Night, everyone! Sorry to leave you hanging! I'll update again tomorrow :)**


	29. Chapter 29: One of Them

**The countdown has begun. Two chapters to the finale.**

_"Just like that, there are three tributes left in the arena. And I am one of them." –Alder Zane_

Chapter 29

_Boom!_ I wake to the sound of a cannon blast. Just like that, there are three tributes left in the arena. And I am one of them.

By hearing the cannon, I know one of three things has happened. Emerald has died from her wounds, one of the remaining tributes has been poisoned, or something completely different happened and resulted in a death. I guess I'll never know how it happened. I have to wait until tonight to find out who died, though. Or rather, to find out who's still alive.

The most likely cause for the cannon was the poison, of course. The way Augustus had put it, I couldn't imagine the deadly food would take this long to take effect. So I deem the rest of my supply safe, and eat breakfast.

It's delicious but very rich, hard to choke down when I've been living off stale crackers, beef jerky and rabbit for the past few weeks. I eat a little at a time, to make sure it stays down.

Something silver glints in the corner of my eye, and I whirl around, expecting a knife. But it's not. It's…Is that a parachute? My jaw drops in utter disbelief. The silver sponsor gift gets tangled in a tree. After a moment more of I climb up as quickly as I can to free it from the branches. When I get back down, I don't even open it, staring in awe at the palm-sized package in my hand. I have _sponsors_. I have sponsors! I smile broadly for the first time in days, and tear open the paper.

It's a small metal canister. I unscrew the top and find a sort of salve inside. What is this? I scoop out a little and rub it between my fingers. Probably some type of medicine. For where Prime cut me? I unwrap the bandage and examine the loose, uneven stitches. They aren't quite doing the job on their own. I carefully apply a layer of salve and rewrap the bandages. That should do it.

I stash the medicine in my backpack and stand up. A walk would probably do me good, especially after my breakfast of rich Capitol food. I have no need to hunt, but I keep my knife on hand, just in case.

I walk for hours, it seems, without a change of scenery. Same pine trees, same hard-packed dirt, same cloudy sky. Then, all of a sudden, I find myself in a completely unfamiliar setting. I walk out of the trees and notice that there's grass, rather than soil and pine needles, under my feet. And there are a few types of wildflowers, too, growing in scattered patches. Only then do I see the mountain ahead of me.

It isn't a natural mountain. Enormous shards of rock pile on top of each other, forming a giant heap of slate. Sparse trees and grasses grow up from in between the rocks.

Suddenly, there's a deafening crash from the top of the pile, a sound like thunder. I squint, trying to see what's going on. To my horror, an avalanche of rocks has started to tumble down the side, followed by a cloud of dust. I stumble backwards. About three quarters of the way down the mountain, the rockslide loses energy, and comes do a stop with a sickening scraping noise.

What had happened? If the Gamemakers were trying to kill me, the rockslide would have reached the bottom. Or, more likely, they would have waited until I had gotten closer. My cannon would have gone off by now. It's not until I hear a cry of pain that I realize this rockslide wasn't for me.

I start up the side of the mountain, towards the cloud of dust floating where the rockslide halted. I grip the handle of my knife tightly. There are three tributes left. This needs to end soon. When the dust clears, I see another boy, about the same size as Cedar. I can barely identify him; his face is covered in blood. At first, I think I've found Prime. In horrible shape, too. Nearly half his body is pinned under a rock larger than he is. As I get closer, though, I recognize him as a different tribute. This is the boy from District 5. He sees me.

"Help," he gasps. But I know there's nothing in this world I can do for him. But I can't walk away. From living in District 12, I know that no one deserves to die buried in a pile of rocks. I take a step towards him and get ready to push the piece of slate. The boy's expression twists in pain.

"No!" he shakes his head, "Get my pack." He reaches out with his arm to point, and I see two dusty feast backpacks on the ground, a few yards away. _Two_. A full green one, and a half-empty black one. The boy from 5 didn't leave the feast, after all. He'd taken another pack and broken the only rule of the game within the Games.

"The black one," says the boy. AZ12. I pick it up and open the top. Most of the food has already been eaten. It looks like my pack was safe, too. I turn back to the boy from 5.

"The water bottle," he chokes out. The color is draining from his face. I dig through the pack quickly until I find a metal canteen. It's light; there isn't much inside. I hand it to the boy anyway. The least I can do is give him a drink of water. The boy from 5 unscrews the cap, hands shaking badly. After a moment, he looks back at me.

"Are you going to win this, Twelve?" I don't know how to answer. The boy grimaces. His expression becomes determined. When he speaks again, it's an order.

"You go to Five, tell my brother I tried hard to come back home." The worst part of this conversation is that there's nothing I can do to help him now; nothing I can do but nod. The boy holds the water bottle to his lips and takes a drink. A cannon sounds immediately, and the canteen slips from his hands. The liquid spills across the stone, and it's not water. It's stained a horrible green color, and mixed with crushed bits of plants. I stare in horror at the dead boy. He poisoned himself. I take a step backwards, nearly tripping on the other rocks. And then I'm running again.

Because there are only two of us left.

**With luck, I will post the final filler and conclusion of the Games later today! :)**


	30. Chapter 30: Louder Than Words

**Wow, thirty chapters already. It's six chapters longer than my first fanfiction, and I'm not even finished! Sorry for the shortness of this one!**

_"Because I'll try to win the Games with my sponsor gift, and actions speak louder than words ever could." –Alder Zane_

Chapter 30

The first tribute in the sky tonight will tell me who I'll have to face in order to escape the arena with my life. Or, if I don't make it out, whether I'll die by Prime's sword or Emerald's hatchet.

_Don't think like that. They're counting on you to get home._

I imagine my family, gathered around a Capitol-issued projector set up in the main room of our house. Then, Rowan and Linden. What are they thinking right now? They know the name of the other tribute. Do they believe I can make it home? Or are they already grieving?

The anthem begins to play, and the Capitol seal lights up the evening sky. After a moment, the image is replaced by a glaring Prime. At first, relief floods over me. Emerald. The girl from 1 is badly injured. Despite that, I start to wonder. She _was_ badly injured. But chances are, she has more sponsors than I do. The one gift I have received, the medicine, has formed a hard coating over my wound, which will no doubt soon be healed. What gifts have been sent to Emerald today?

She also has weapons, which she can use with lethal accuracy. My spear was taken back to the Capitol by a hovercraft, along with the body of the girl from District 4. Now, I have only my serrated knife, which won't do me much good. Especially against a Career who can throw hatchets and knives long distances.

I don't feel safe sleeping on the ground tonight. So I choose a tree carefully, wrap my arms around the trunk, and begin to climb. Once I reach a high enough branch, I make myself comfortable. Then I tie myself in with my rope, using a knot that Gloria taught me.

And no matter how paranoid I am, I can't stay awake forever.

* * *

The next day is remarkably quiet. I climb down from my tree, eat some more food from my backpack, and attempt hunting to keep myself busy. And to—the thought alone is enough to make me uneasy—practice.

No luck. I'm not a knife thrower. Not even a knife _fighter_.

It's so strange to be thinking this way. Before the Games, I wasn't a fighter at all. Now, my waking hours are filled with thoughts of hunting, weapons, and above all, murder. But if I didn't think like this, I would probably be back in District 12. In a wooden box, buried in the ground.

I retrieve my knife and put it back in my belt. It's getting dark. I should probably find a safe place to spend the night. Just as I start to search for a good tree, I hear a loud rustle in the branches above my head. I look up, and nearly fall over when I see the tip of a spear pointed at my face.

But then, I realize I can't see the tribute holding it. Because it's not a tribute. It's a silver parachute.

I reach up and pull the weapon free from the branches. It's simple, lacking the silver shaft of the Capitol-made spears in the Training Center. This one is wood, though the end is metal and just as sharp. I draw back my arm and give it a throw. _Swish! Thud!_ The weapon embeds itself in a nearby tree.

_Thank you._

I don't say it out loud. Because I'll try to win the Games with my sponsor gift, and actions speak louder than words ever could.

* * *

In the morning, I untie myself from the tree, grab my spear, and climb down to the ground. I'm torn between hoping for another calm day and wishing for the Games to be over. But every moment I'm hoping and wishing is more time for Emerald to recover. I can't just wait her out. If I don't go looking for Emerald, she'll eventually come looking for me.

I start walking in the direction of the lake, looking to refill my water bottle before I go searching to end the Games. I think I have an iodine tablet or two left in my backpack. Or maybe I'm just procrastinating. I don't want to face Emerald. But if I'd like some kind of advantage over her in our final fight, I have to find her.

I keep walking, but something is wrong. The sky is darker than it should be at this time of day, unless I've woken up earlier than I expected to. That must be it…

Then comes the smell. I stop in my tracks. I definitely recognize it. I have to smell it every time Betony tries to cook something, actually. It's how you tell when something's burning.

When I turn around, the forest is ablaze.

**CLIFFHANGER! Somewhat, at least. Well, now you have an idea of what the finale's going to be like, yeah? :) Hope you enjoyed this chapter, even though it was a bit short and choppy. Sorry. I'm just very excited to get to the finale! Please review!**


	31. Chapter 31: Like Wildfire

**Here it is, as promised. The finale.**

_"Spreading like wildfire. " –Alder Zane_

Chapter 31

Spreading like wildfire. When I heard those words, I used to imagine rumors, not flames. But now I know firsthand that wildfire spreads _fast_.

The brilliant flames wash through the trees like a flood. The moment I turn in the direction of the lake, the fire has blocked my way. I start running, coughing as I inhale the thick black smoke around me. I hold the front of my shirt over my nose and mouth, but it doesn't help. Disoriented, I trip over rocks and roots as I go, trying to catch my breath. The blistering heat of the fire is unbearable in my jacket. The flames on all sides feel white-hot, like I'm already burning.

Suddenly, I see her through the smoke. Emerald stands ahead of me, doubled over in a fit of coughing. I raise my arm, taking careful aim. Then I hurl my spear, and it flies through the air at breakneck speed.

And goes right over her head.

* * *

I missed. The one opportunity I had to go home, and my weapon flew right past her. I will never get a second chance at that throw.

Emerald straightens up when she hears the spear whiz by. Her hair is matted, face smeared with dirt. Her eyes narrow when she sees me. Me, her final kill. The only thing standing in the way of her victory. Weaponless, save for a tiny knife used to cut rope and fruit. She takes out one of the two remaining hatchets in her belt.

She chucks the first one in my direction, and I duck out of the way. This gives her a chance to get closer, drawing her other hatchet and swinging it at my head. I jump back. Emerald raises her weapon to strike again, but breaks off and starts choking. The smoke in the air is so heavy I can hardly see. The fire has surrounded us, and it's closing in quickly.

In a split-second decision, I jump up and grab hold of the highest tree branch I can reach. As I pull myself into the tree, Emerald stops wheezing. I glance down to see her climbing close behind me. She grabs my ankle, meaning to yank me to the ground. I yelp and kick her away. I continue my climb, taking in a huge lungful of fresh air when it's no longer polluted by the smoke.

But the fire rises with us, creeping up the tallest trees. Soon, I find I can't climb any higher. The branches are too skinny to hold my weight. Emerald, a few feet below me, is having a similar problem. A branch breaks under her foot, and she gives a shriek and throws her arms around the three. The wildfire rages all around us. I look down, panicked, to see the ground engulfed in flames. The Gamemakers have left our tree alone, but they've also prevented any means of escape. The Hunger Games will end today.

_Thunk! Thunk!_ I look down. Emerald has started hacking away at the tree with her hatchet. I hang on for dear life, hoping I can grab a lower branch on my way down. But the flames are rising higher, and the glowing ashes of the pines trees swirl in the wind like burning snowflakes. Emerald begins climbing again.

I kick at the girl from 1 as she comes closer, but it doesn't stop her from making her way up to where I am. I take out my knife and swing it back and forth. Any closer, and she'll be able to swing her hatchet into my chest.

_Go away! Get away!_

One of my kicks makes it to her head, and she slides down half a foot in surprise. As she tries to regain her bearings, the hatchet falls from her hand. Emerald watches it plummet, a look of horror plastered on her face. She turns back to me, though; not nearly ready to give up.

But her hold on the branch doesn't last. It only takes an instant, but it feels like I'm watching in slow motion. She drops, loosing first her footing and then her grip on the branches holding her up, and begins to plunge down from the tree.

_It's almost over, it's almost—_

The next moment, I'm grabbing her hand.

* * *

She's heavy; too heavy for me to hold up. Our hands are slick with sweat and grime, and she's slipping away. My arm aches as I try to pull her back into the tree. It shouldn't have to end this way. It won't. She looks up, face pale with terror.

Suddenly, her hand slips out of mine. Quickly, I reach down and try to take hold of her wrist as she falls. But she's already dropping too fast. And I've leaned too far. The girl from District 1 and I are both jerked out of the tree.

And then we're falling, falling past the smoke and into the flames.

**Okay, I can safely say that was a cliffhanger this time. Do you think you already know what happens next? *evil laughter* Review and take a guess!**


	32. Chapter 32: Alive

**Short chapters, short chapters… Well, I can say for sure that the next one will be longer! :)**

_"I am alive." –Alder Zane_

Chapter 32

_Crack!_ I hit the ground hard, and the air leaves my lungs quickly. I find myself completely unable to move. Unable to breathe. But I know I'm burning. I can feel my skin blister through contact with the flames, but no longer see or smell. All I hear is the crackle of fire, destroying everything around me.

Then, it falls silent.

* * *

I don't hear the trumpets. Just yelling. The voices don't belong to anyone I know. Another loud noise fills my ears, the sound of an engine. Hovercraft. I can still feel the fire burning me, as hot as a branding iron. But I can't move; can't do anything to stop it.

Suddenly, I can see again. I have my vision back, albeit blurry. My head is tilted towards the metal wall. People in white coats stand around me, shouting words I don't quite catch. And I see that someone else is there, too. Burned and broken, the only thing that makes her recognizable is her blonde hair, or what's left of it. The white-coated people have surrounded her, too. Their yells grow louder, more panicked. Then, all at once, they go quiet. They rush to the opposite side of the room and join the others around me.

No cannon has sounded. But the Games are over.

* * *

When I next wake up, I am alone. The room's walls are pure white, and it hurts my eyes to look at them.

My arms lay on top of the white blanket of my bed. The right one's bound tightly in a bulky splint. On my left, four tubes are stuck into the bend of my elbow. Where new skin isn't grafted in patches, it's bright red and raw. I close my eyes again.

_I am alive._

I'm a victor now.

* * *

Days pass in the same routine. I wake up to eat small amounts. I'd have thought, after so much time in the arena, that I would be ravenous. But I can barely handle a spoonful or two of broth. After meals, they send more of their drugs into my system and knock me out again. I notice things changing, though. My right arm is freed from the splint. My skin is less angry-looking, slowly fading from patchwork to a web of light-colored scars.

Soon enough, they tell me it's time to reunite with my team. My whole body aching, I place my feet on the floor and pull myself into a standing position. When I see the outfit that's set out for me, I cringe. It's a back shirt, brown cargo pants, a green jacket, and brown leather boots. My outfit from the arena. I don't want to touch it, much less put it on, but I have a feeling they won't let me out until I do.

After I change clothes, I catch sight of myself in the bathroom mirror. But…It's not me. The person staring back looks so unfamiliar; I might be looking through a window instead. The hair's been singed off my head almost completely. I have raw, scarred skin and hollow cheeks.

It looks like you could knock me over with a feather. I turn away from my reflection and walk back into the white room.

* * *

The elevator ride up to Floor 12 is torture for quite a few different reasons. First, it brings back memories of Elevator Boy being violently killed at the feast. And as I watch the numbers fly past on the screen, I think of all the empty apartments I'm passing. Every single tribute is dead. Everyone but me. I've never felt more alone than I do now.

"Alder!" exclaims Cardea, standing up when she sees me walk into the Floor 12 apartment. Her curly hair, formerly a deep turquoise, have been dyed light blue, the same color as one of the feast backpacks. Mars, looking indifferent, gives me a nod. Vega smiles and claps her hands.

My stylist rushes forward, but hesitates before hugging me. She looks like she's afraid I'll shatter into pieces. I throw my arms around her.

"You did so well. I knew you could do it, Al," she says.

"Thank you," I say. My voice sounds rough, like I've been swallowing broken glass. But Cardea beams at me.

"Well, it looks like you've got your work cut out for you, Cardea. You'd better get going!" says Vega, "Good luck Alder. And remember to smile! You've just won the Hunger Games, for crying out loud!"

**After this, there's going to be one or two more chapters, and then an epilogue. :) Hopefully posted today! Sorry for the hurry, but I'm really excited to write these parts of the story!**


	33. Chapter 33: Take A Bow

**Well, the Games are long over, and it's time for Alder to face his fears.**

_"Take a bow." –Egnatius Marchland_

Chapter 33

After sitting through a two-hour Remake Center visit, where Cardea worked her hardest to cover the fading burn scars on my hands and face, I'm allowed to put on another coal-black suit and head to the stage. Victors and their teams, apparently, have to come up from _underneath_ the stage, which is a wide space that looks and feels disturbingly similar to the Launch Room.

I can already hear the thunderous applause from the crowd above. And it terrifies me. After all that's happened, they still won't let me go home. I have to stumble through one more interview before I can see my family again.

I watch the prep team's platform rise; see their smiling faces as they celebrate their success. At least some of us are excited for the victor interview.

Someone puts their hand on my shoulder, and I whirl around, expecting some sort of attack.

"Hey, whoa! It's okay, just me." It's a young man who looks to be in his twenties. It takes a moment to recognize him as the victor of the 1st Hunger Games, Scutarius Decarli. It's surprising that he wasn't immediately familiar, since he's one of the most famous people in all of the districts. He shakes my hand.

"I'm Scooter," he says, "Nice to finally meet you." I nod in response, watching Cardea's platform rise to the stage.

"Good job out there. How are you doing?" he asks. I could definitely be better. I shrug.

"That's…good?" Scooter's not sure what to make of the shrug. So of course, I shrug again, and he moves on.

"Listen," he says, lowering his voice, "Just watch what you say out there. Not that you don't do that already." He smiles, attempting to get a laugh out of me. It doesn't work, so he continues, speaking so softly I have to strain my ears to hear him over the roar of the crowd.

"That stunt you pulled with the girl from 1. Was that planned?" I shake my head quickly.

"Well, as soon as you fell, they took you both out of the arena. They had no idea which one of you would go first. You are _ridiculously_ lucky that girl died." It had never crossed my mind before, but what would they have done if they were able to save both of us? Locked us in a room and forced us to fight each other again? Killed both of us at once? I grimace. Scooter goes back to normal volume. Maybe even a little louder, just to be sure everyone hears him.

"Anyway, again, congratulations. It looks like you've gotta go." I look back to see Vega rising up on her platform, grinning broadly behind a thick layer of makeup. I swallow hard. It's my turn now.

"Don't worry," says Scooter, "The worst was over a long time ago." I nod and step onto my platform, clenching my fists. The floor underneath me starts to rise. I look down at Scooter, who gives me a salute. Then, he disappears, and I'm onstage. In front of a huge audience of screaming Capitolites.

_Don't freeze, don't freeze._

I cross the stage quickly, forcing myself to smile as I shake Egnatius's hand. The audience cheers wildly. Once the applause has died down a little, we both take our seats.

"Fancy seeing you here, Mr. Zane! Well done, indeed!" He sounds like he's seriously happy for me. I nod.

"Now, I know you aren't much of a talker, so I think we can skip the witty banter and go right to the tape. But, I expect to hear all about it when it's over! Okay?" I nod again. What else can I do? Vega would kil—be very angry with me if I went mute again.

"Wonderful! Now, let's roll the highlights!" He gestures to a gigantic screen, and the lights dim. It's hard to fit weeks of footage into a three-hour tape, but the Capitol does their best to eliminate the unimportant parts. They show plenty of videos of me, though, especially in the chariot ride and interviews.

The Cornucopia battle. I'm griping the front of my chair as if someone's going to yank me off the stage and throw me back into the arena. The audience may be watching the screen, but I'm replaying my own memories.

The first few days of the Games pass very quickly, but once Violet and I ally with the rest of the outer-district tributes, they start to replay whole conversations. Seeing Violet onscreen, I feel a pang of guilt.

I tried to save the girl who killed my district partner. And I still don't know why I did it.

I want to shut my eyes and block it all out. Maybe I was better off burning to death.

After they show us discussing our plans to take out the Careers, they cut to a clip of Terrence and Jacinth walking in the forest. I remember that. He said he'd dropped his token, and dragged Jacinth off to help him find it.

"I wish we didn't have to do this." This was Terrence.

"It'll turn out fine. Besides, it not like you have to come. I'm going to be okay."

"I know you will," says the boy from 9 with a sigh.

"Then why—?"

"After the fight," Terrence interrupts her, "If we're still…_around_, do you want to keep working together?" Jacinth stops walking.

"We can't do that..."

"Why not?" asks Terrence. Jacinth lowers her voice, looking pained.

"You know as well as I do there aren't going to be a lot of tributes left after that fight. Let's…Let's just stop talking about this. We have to look for your lost token."

"I didn't lose my token."

As soon as Jacinth turns around, they cut to the next clip. The audience members start to murmur disapprovingly to one another. What did they leave out?

They do it again, too. Not that I mind this time. During the final day of the Games, they skip from Emerald trying to cut down the top of the pine tree to us both falling through the air. And I'm grateful, because it means Egnatius won't bother me with it during the interview.

After what seems like forever, the screen goes dark for the last time, and the lights grow brighter. The audience applauds, and Egnatius mouths '_Take a bow.'_ I stand up and give an awkward bob of my head before taking my seat again.

"Now, Alder, that was quite a Games!" I nod.

"But after such an adventure, I'll bet you're excited to go back to District Twelve! Am I right?" I nod.

"Yes, you'll be quite the celebrity there. You'll get to move to the Victor's Village. Did you know that?" I nod. Of course I knew that. It's the only good aspect of being a victor, besides surviving. My family will never have to struggle to get food on the table again.

The interview continues like this for a while. It's easier the second time around. And it seems like Egnatius planned beforehand to ask yes or no questions, to avoid the uncomfortable pauses from our first meeting. When it finally ends, he shakes my hand and congratulates me. Then, I am allowed to leave the stage.

I'm going home.

**I went easy on Alder this time, for once :) I figured, hey, he's been through enough, and gave him a fairly easy interview. Hope you enjoyed!**


	34. Chapter 34: District 12

**It's been fun writing about the 6th Hunger Games. Here is the conclusion to this chapter of Alder's life:**

_"I'll see him again eventually, though. District 12 is a pretty small place." –Alder Zane_

Chapter 34

The train finally slows to a stop. For nearly half an hour, I've been staring out the window, watching the familiar scenery of District 12 come into sight. I stand up. The nightmare is almost over.

As soon as the train's doors open, the people outside erupt into cheers. And to my surprise, I start to smile. After nearly a month, I'm finished with the Hunger Games. Not forever. I'll still have to go back and mentor next year. But maybe, back in 12, I'll be able to forget about the arena.

I spot my family in the sea of people, cheering the loudest of all. Cedar and Laurel are shouting my name. Without stopping to wave at the crowd, I run down from the platform.

"Alder!" All six of my family members meet me in the middle. There's a lot of hugging and a lot of tears, and it reminds me of the day they said goodbye. But this time, they're all smiling. Including me.

Everyone is staring. But for once, I don't care at all. That is, until I see someone in particular.

A little boy watches us from close by, scowling. He has dark hair, olive skin, and grey-colored eyes. But then, so does almost everyone in the Seam. I wouldn't recognize him at all if he wasn't wearing the necklace. The silver, heart-shaped locket that once belonged to Violet Henson. It hits me like a ton of bricks. I'm looking at her brother.

"Benjy—" I start to say. He's already disappeared. I try to follow him, but Rowan tackles me before I can take another step

"I knew it! I knew it!" he exclaims.

"Honestly! Leave him alone, Row, he just got back!" scolds Linden, but she's smiling, too. I grin back at them. Violet's younger brother doesn't leave my mind.

However hard I search for him in the crowd that day, Benjy has vanished without a trace. I'll see him again eventually, though. District 12 is a pretty small place. And when I do, maybe I can tell him how sorry I am. That is, if he'll let me.

**I apologize for the short chapter! I will make a long epilogue and post it tomorrow!**


	35. Epilogue

**Well, everyone, this is it. The very end of The Victor From Twelve. :'( It's been really, really, great writing this story, and I'm going to miss it a lot. And probably write a long series of emotional one-shots about the characters and post them in my other story, Rollercoaster (Check it out? There's already one there about Alder and one about Julius! :D) And I hate to leave the 6****th**** Games behind (Though Alder wishes he could!) After I write this epilogue, I'm going to focus on my other full-Games story, Inevitable, which is a rewrite of my first-ever fanfiction. :) After I post this, I'm going to switch this story from In-Progress to Complete. :D I want to thank you all for following this story until the end, and putting up with my obsessive updating towards the end. And for those of you who posted reviews, I love you. 3**

**~Kate**

Epilogue

_44 YEARS LATER_

I board the train alone, as I always do. The kids are still saying goodbye to their families. It sounds like we're taking a trip, and I'll admit it, we are. But it's no vacation. This is the Hunger Games.

They started fifty years ago, exactly. When the districts rose up against our Capitol. The Capitol quelled the revolution and punished us by forcing us to participate in the Games as a kind of entertainment to them. To us, it's meant to be a reminder that we must never rebel again. But in all honesty, it just feeds the fire.

The idea is that a boy and a girl from each of the twelve districts, between the ages of twelve and eighteen, are sent to the Capitol every year. The "tributes" train for a week, learning the skills they need for the Games. Some of the wealthier districts train their tributes in advance, and they volunteer. They're ready before they reach the Capitol.

After training, all the tributes are thrown into an outdoor arena—a blazing desert or an icy tundra or a wild rainforest; whatever form of torture they've come up with that particular year—and must fight each other to the death. The last tribute alive is declared the victor, and they are allowed to live.

I was picked for the Hunger Games when I was fifteen years old. I lived in the Seam, the poorest area of District 12, but I would much rather have stayed there. I had to leave my family and friends and travel to the Capitol to fight in the arena. In the end, I was so close to death I could feel it. Accept it, even. But yet, here I am. I am a victor now, the only victor in my district. Which means I mentor every year.

Mentoring is the only thing about the Hunger Games considerably worse than actually being in them. Every year, I meet the tributes. I have to get to know them, learn their strengths and weaknesses. Then, I try to help them through the Games, giving them advice that helped me when I was a tribute.

But not one of them has made it out of the arena alive.

I take a seat by the window, waiting for the tributes to arrive. Every twenty-five years, they turn the Games into something called a Quarter Quell. There's always a twist that makes it even more horrible than before. For the 25th Games, we had to vote for the kids sent into the arena. This year, for the 50th Hunger Games, there will be twice as many tributes. Which means I have four tributes to mentor. Chances are, they're all going to die, just like the rest of them.

The tributes are escorted to the platform, and I find I don't remember their names from the reaping. I watch them as they wave to the crowd. A blonde merchant girl wearing a gold pin, a Seam boy who's scowling, a younger Seam girl with tears running down her face, and a redheaded boy who looks to be the oldest. When they're allowed to board the train, the younger girl and the redheaded boy go directly to the food table, as the Seam kids always do. The scowling boy, however, takes a seat at the table. He doesn't say anything, just sits there and expects me to start speaking. But I wait until the rest of the tributes have taken their seats as well. And then I keep waiting.

"I'm Haymitch," the first boy says. I nod.

"Peony," says the little girl, looking down the table.

"Eli," says the redhead. From the pile of cakes in front of him, I'd say he was from the Seam, as well. Though with his hair, it'd be impossible to tell by his features.

"Maysilee," says the girl with the pin. I nod again, and there's a brief silence.

"Well?" says Haymitch finally, "You're the mentor."

"Yes."

"So _mentor_ us."

"Be specific," I say. It looks like I'm pushing Haymitch a little too far. Eli speaks up before the other boy can open his mouth to argue.

"How do we find shelter?" he asks.

"Anywhere that's well concealed." When I was a tribute, my escort and I came up with a four-word rule for the interviews. And yes, it still applies to mentoring.

"Like…" This is Haymitch again.

"Trees. Tie yourself in."

"With a rope?" asks Peony. Haymitch looks at her like she's an idiot.

"So you don't fall." I nod.

"What if there are no trees?" asks Maysilee, "If the arena's a desert?"

"There's plenty of sand." I say. Maysilee, looking miffed, gets up from the table and walks off without a word. Slowly, but surely, the other tributes go their own ways as well. I shake my head, though none of them see me.

_If they can't take me seriously, there's no way they're going to survive the Games._ This begins another journal entry. Since I became a victor, I've started writing. It helps me get all my thoughts in one place. I start to take notes about my new tributes, anything that catches my interest. How Eli seems like a cheerful character—maybe that could be his angle for the interview. Maysilee's token is interesting. When she sat down across from me, I saw that her pin depicted a small bird. I wonder if it represents something.

Someone clears their throat, and I look up. Haymitch has returned. He sits down in the seat across from me.

"What are you writing about?" I don't reply, and slide the book across the table so he can see for himself. He looks amused as he reads what I wrote about him.

"Stubborn and short-fused, huh?" I nod. Haymitch picks up the pen and writes something else below his name. He hands the book back to me. I read the words, written in his messy scrawl, and smile slightly.

**_Haymitch Abernathy can win the Hunger Games._**

_Prove it._ I write.

**_You can see for yourself in the arena._**

_Not if you die in the bloodbath, I can't._

**_I won't die in the bloodbath._**

_Really? How do I know?_

**_I'm going to listen to you._**

_Are you?_

**_Yeah. I am. If you give me some actual advice._**

I've met nearly a hundred kids since I became a mentor. Of all ages, Seam and merchant alike. All of them have died in the arena.

I know I'll always remember that morning, before my own Games. My district partner gave me the only real piece of advice I'd gotten all through my stay in the Capitol. When you think about it, there's only one thing you need to do to win the Hunger Games. I put down my pen and face my new tribute.

"Here's some advice," I tell him, "Stay alive."


End file.
